CHAPTER XI 120
A snug small room; a round table by a cheerful fire; an arm-chair high-backed and old-fashioned, wherein sat the neatest imaginable little elderly lady, in widow ' s cap, black silk gown, and snowy muslin apron; exactly like what I had fancied Mrs. Fairfax, only less stately and milder looking. She was occupied in knitting; a large cat sat demurely at her feet; nothing in short was wanting to complete the beau-ideal of domestic comfort. A more reassuring introduction for a new governess could scarcely be conceived; there was no grandeur to overwhelm, no stateliness to embarrass; and then, as I entered, the old lady got up and promptly and kindly came forward to meet me.
" How do you do, my dear? I am afraid you have had a tedious ride; John drives so slowly; you must be cold, come to the fire."
" Mrs. Fairfax, I suppose?" said I. " Yes, you are right: do sit down."
She conducted me to her own chair, and then began to remove my shawl and untie my bonnet-strings; I begged she would not give herself so much trouble.
" Oh, it is no trouble; I dare say your own hands are almost numbed with cold. Leah, make a little hot negus and cut a sandwich or two: here are the keys of the storeroom."
And she produced from her pocket a most housewifely bunch of keys, and delivered them to the servant.
" Now, then, draw nearer to the fire," she continued. " You ' ve brought your luggage with you, haven ' t you, my dear?"
" Yes, ma ' am." " I ' ll see it carried into your room," she said, and bustled out.