“Exactly. That is how Flora has been educated. In company, she smiles prettily and says little. I know of far too many men who would find that admirable in a wife, but that is not the sort of man I want her to marry. That’s why although she doesn’t need a governess, she does need some enlightenment. Do you have any ideas for how to achieve that?”

I finally felt like I was on familiar ground. “She should read the newspaper daily, at least one good magazine weekly, and classic literature regularly. I could then converse with her about those things so she would be prepared for social occasions.” Although this was a proper interview, I felt like we were children playing house, talking about teaching someone barely younger than we were as though we were real adults.

He nodded enthusiastically and smiled. “Good, that makes sense. I would want you to do the same on a smaller scale with Rollo. He’s getting a better education than she had, but I still feel it’s lacking. With Olive, we have a chance to start her correctly. I’ve yet to find an adequate school for girls. I may resort to cutting her hair and dressing her as a boy so she can attend a decent school.” He glanced at the open doorway and gave a friendly wave toward Mrs. Talbot. “I’m afraid my housekeeper doesn’t approve, but I want to make it clear that although she managed the correspondence for filling the position, you would report directly to me, not to her.”

He stood and extended a hand to assist me to my feet. “Now, would you like to meet the children?” He held his arm out to me, and I took it. He pointed out items of architectural interest as we made our way down the hall.

Inside a comfortable drawing room, a pretty, fair-haired girl played a grand piano while a lanky boy lay sprawled on the floor with schoolbooks in front of him. A little girl sat nearby with a book in her lap. The remnants of a tea were spread on a table in the middle of the room.

The smaller girl noticed us first. She jumped to her feet, crying out, “Uncle!” and ran to throw her arms around Lord Henry.

He tousled her brown curls and said, “Hello, Olive.” He then addressed the others. “Flora, Rollo, this is Miss Newton.”

The boy rose, came over to me, and bowed formally. “Roland Lyndon, Marquis of Westchester, at your service, miss,” he said.

“But we call him Rollo,” Lord Henry said. “We don’t use titles at home.”

Flora merely nodded at me as she kept playing. She was quite good, both technically and in musicality. There was real depth to her interpretation of the music. I could see why her uncle felt she had the potential to be more than just a decorative object.