of both head and heart had been stunted , she could not ripen into a lovable or independent character. Besides, the thoughts and longings of her maidenly heart drew her, by the law of nature, away from Labutín Castle into the regions of rosy dreams and hopes.
When her French governess had finished her education under the eye and supervision of her mother, the baroness thought it necessary to find a companion for her, who would be at the same time her lady’s-maid. She searched and inquired in different directions, but it was not easy to combine these two functions in one person.
The poverty-stricken applicants who looked for service and bread in aristocratic families were either tolerably fit to be companions, or suitable for the post of lady’s-maid. Some had their heads crammed, perhaps, with literary and social knowledge, or they knew how to sew decently, to wash and iron the lady’s fine things, and to dress her hair tastefully; but to perform both kinds of duties for very modest wages, they did not choose to do.
At last a person was found whom the baroness thought she could take on trial. “Of course,” she calculated, “if she does not do in the end, it will be a pity to have paid the travelling expenses here and back; but that can’t be helped.”
The baroness had all the testimonials of the applicant placed before her, and scrutinized them for a whole evening with the eye of a detective. The name of the applicant was Jenny Kučerová; she was the daughter of a Government official, who was a widower, and had, besides Jenny, five other children unprovided for, and possessed almost no private property. “She belongs to a poor family, and may perhaps suit well,” the baroness said to herself.
