In the Land of the Long White Cloud

very seaworthy. In no time, the little boy was back again, interrupting the arithmetic lesson with Nancy that had followed his own. His sister reacted indignantly to the interruption. The little girl was good with numbers, and unlike her tutor, she seemed aware of their audience. Whenever she gave an answer, as though firing it off from a pistol, she cast a triumphant look in George’s direction. George, however, was focusing his attention on the young teacher. She asked her questions in a soft, high-pitched voice, pronouncing her Ss with some affectation—like an aspiring member of the British aristocracy or a girl who had lisped as a child but now consciously controlled her speech. George found it charming;he could have listened to her all day. But here was Robert interrupting her and his sister’s peace and quiet once again. George knew exactly how the little girl felt. And he saw the same strained patience that Helen had so often expressed in the tutor’s eyes.
    “It sank, missy! Make a new one,” Robert ordered, tossing his wet boat into his teacher’s lap.
    George decided to step in once more.
    “Come here; I know how to do it,” Robert offered. “I’ll show you how to fold one, and then you can do it yourself.”
    “But you really don’t need to…” the young woman began, giving him a helpless look. “Robert, you’re bothering the gentleman,” she said sternly.
    “Not at all,” George said with a dismissive hand gesture. “On the contrary. I love making paper boats, and I haven’t done it in nearly ten years. It’s about time I tried it again before I forget how to do it.”
    While the young woman continued to work on math equations with Nancy—occasionally stealing glances at George—he quickly folded the paper into a little boat. He tried to explain to Robert how to do it himself, but the boy was only interested in the finished product.
    “Come along, let’s make it sail,” he invited George. “In the river.”
    “Not in the river!” The tutor leaped up. Although it would undoubtedly mean upsetting Nancy, she was ready to accompany Robert to the “lake” as long as he did not put himself in harm’s way again. George walked beside her, marveling at her easy, gracious movements. This girl was no country girl like those who had been dancing at the White Hart the night before. She was obviously a young lady.
    “The boy is difficult, isn’t he?” George said sympathetically.
    She nodded. “But Nancy is sweet. And perhaps Robert will grow out of it,” she said hopefully.
    “Do you think?” George asked. “Do you have experience with that?”
    The girl shrugged. “No. This is my first job.”
    “After your teaching seminar?” George was curious. She seemed incredibly young for an educated teacher.
    The girl shook her head, embarrassed. “No, I never took a seminar. There aren’t any to take in New Zealand—at least not here on the South Island. But I know how to read and write, and I know a little French and quite a bit of Maori. I’ve read the classics, though not in Latin. Besides, the children won’t be going to college for a long time.”
    “And?” George asked. “Do you enjoy it?”
    The young woman looked at him and frowned. George motioned toward a space on a bench near the “lake” and was pleased when she sat down.
    “Enjoy it? Teaching? Well, not always. But what sort of job earns you money and is always enjoyable?”
    George sat down beside her and decided to act boldly.
    “Since we’re already chatting, allow me to introduce myself: George Greenwood of Greenwood Enterprises—London, Sydney, and recently Christchurch.”
    If she was impressed, she didn’t let him see it. Instead, she just calmly and proudly told him her name: “Elizabeth Godewind.”
    “Godewind? That sounds Danish. But you don’t have a Scandinavian accent.”
    Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I’m from London. But my foster mother was Swedish. She adopted me.”
    “Just a mother? No father?” George berated himself for his curiosity.
    “Mrs. Godewind was already quite old when I came to her. To provide her with some company, so to speak. Later she wanted to leave me the house, and the simplest way for her to do that was to adopt me. Mrs. Godewind was the best thing to ever happen to me.” The young woman fought back tears. George looked away so as not to embarrass her, and kept an eye on the children. Nancy was picking flowers, and Robert was doing his best to sink the