CHAPTER IX.
A NERVOUS LADY.One of the numerous omnibuses running down Oxford Street deposited me pretty near where I wanted to go; and, after alighting, I had no difficulty in finding some one to direct me to the address I was in search of. This proved, to my surprise, to be a small greengrocer's shop, where one would certainly not expect that there would be any demand for a governess. However, it was unmistakably the address that had been given in the advertisement, so I edged my way in, past the piles of earthy baskets by which the entrance was almost choked, and spoke to the owner of the shop—a jolly-looking, burly, middle-aged man.
"Excuse my troubling you," said I, politely, "but I've called in consequence of an advertisement for a daily governess by A. G. in yesterday's Morning Pos
