Read Miss Hartwell's Dilemma for Free Online

Her blue woollen dress was a size too large about her middle and much too warm for the day, which had turned hot after an early autumnal chill.
    Ushered into Miss Hartwell’s office, Isabel released her father’s hand just long enough to bob a clumsy curtsy and whisper “How do you do,” then clutched it again. Her father looked equally anxious.
    “How do you do, Miss Winterborne,” said Miss Hartwell, coming forwards with a smile. “Why don’t you take off your bonnet and sit down, and we shall have some lemonade before I show you the rest of the school.”
    The child fumbled with her bonnet strings. Before Miss Hartwell could go to her aid, Lord Daniel was on his knees beside her untying them.
    Daisy brought in a tray with a glass of lemonade, a pot of tea, and some biscuits.
    “Will you take a glass of wine, my lord?” Miss Hartwell asked.
    “Thank you, no. Tea will do very well, ma’am.” He stood protectively beside his daughter, his hand on her shoulder, his face set.
    “For all the world as if he was leaving her in the lion’s den,” Daisy reported to the kitchen.
    “Pray be seated, sir. Miss Winterborne, I should like to ask you some questions. You can read?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Papa taught me.”
    “Do you like to read?”
    “Oh yes, ma’am! I often read to Papa in the evenings. We have read Robinson Crusoe and Macbeth and Childe Harold and Tom Jones...”
    Lord Daniel flushed and scowled as Miss Hartwell looked at him with her eyebrows raised in disapproval.
    “An interesting variety,” she responded, hoping that the little girl had not understood the half of what she had read. “And can you sew?”
    “I hemmed a handkerchief for Papa. He carries it always with him.”
    His lordship’s hand went to his breast-pocket as if in confirmation.
    “Embroidery?”
    “No, ma’am. My Nan only knows plain stitching,” confessed Miss Winterborne worriedly.
    Miss Hartwell’s gentle questioning continued. As she had begun to suspect, the child was well versed in such subjects as might interest a gentleman. Otherwise, she was ignorant of all except the little she had picked up from her nursemaid.
    Meanwhile, Lord Daniel was growing visibly impatient. “Enough of this interrogation!” he broke in roughly.
    She looked at him coldly. “We must not keep you, my lord. I am sure Miss Isabel is over her first shyness and will do very well on her own now.”
    “Isabel.” There was pain in his voice.
    She rose and went to stand in front of him. “I must learn to be a lady, Papa,” she said gravely. 
    He hugged her close.
    “I promise you, my lord, I shall neither eat her nor beat her.” Miss Hartwell intended to make her tone light, but it came out sarcastic.
    “Beat her!” He jumped to his feet, outraged.
    “I said I shall not. I really think it is time you left, sir, before we come to cuffs. Miss Isabel is perfectly safe in my charge, I assure you.”
    “I shall be here to see her on Sunday,” he said grimly, “and she shall return home immediately if she is not happy.”
    “As we agreed.”
    Miss Hartwell turned to fiddle with the papers on her desk, giving them a little privacy for their farewells. She heard the sound of his boots, then the door opening and closing again. He had gone without taking his leave of her.
    She turned back to the girl. “I am sorry to disagree with your Papa,” she said gently. “He is only concerned for you welfare, I know.”
    Isabel’s lips trembled. “It is not your fault. Papa has quarrelled with all the neighbours and his family, too. Nan says he carries on like a bear with a sore head. He will be so lonely without me,” she added desolately.
    Miss Hartwell put her arm round the thin shoulders. She was fond of all her pupils, but for some reason she was particularly drawn to this brave child with the swimming eyes.
    “He will miss you, I daresay, but gentlemen always have a great deal of business to take care of, so he will not have time to grieve.