Mrs Thistleton's Princess by Antonio Hope

I saw her the next day but one -- on the morning when the third "insertion" appeared in _The Morning Post_. Bessie Thistleton had told me, with obvious annoyance, that there had been no replies yet. "Governesses are really a drug, unless they have a degree, in these days," she had said. "‘Where is she?' Oh, somewhere in the garden, I think, Mr Tregaskis."

So I went into the garden and found her again under the tree. But her big book was not with her now; she was sitting idle, looking straight ahead of her, with pondering and, perhaps, fear in her great dark eyes.