The Governess - Part 35
Library

Part 35

"Not necessarily," she said. "But as a general rule people whose lives have been simple and upright do not need to live under an a.s.sumed name.

Of course there might be exceptional cases--and there is a difference between an alias and an incognito."

"What's an incognito?" questioned Nan.

"Why, if a person of rank or importance travels through a country and wishes to escape publicity, he often does so incognito--that is, unknown. He will drop his official t.i.tle and take his family name or part of his family name with a simple prefix. For instance, a king might care to be known as the Duke of So-and-so; a Duke as Mr. ----, whatever his surname chanced to be. That would not be wicked and it would not be an alias. And sometimes people who are not n.o.bles find it desirable to remain unrecognized for a time. Take it for granted that I was not, in reality, a governess at all; I mean that I was not forced by circ.u.mstances to take such a position, but that I for some reason chose to a.s.sume it. That I cared to come here and be with you because I had known and loved your parents long ago and wished to do my best for their child. Then suppose I did not care to disclose my ident.i.ty to--to--people because of--well, no matter--I simply came here giving you but part of my name--not the whole, why it might not be a wise course, but it certainly could not be called a wicked."

"Oh, how I wish you had," cried Nan. "It would be splendid fun. Just like a princess in disguise and things. Say you aren't a governess and that your name isn't Blake. Oh, please do. It'll be just like fairy-stories if you will."

"How can I, dear, when I am and it is?" replied the governess, slowly.

"I am no princess in disguise, I a.s.sure you. I am simply a very prosaic little woman and your devoted friend. I don't think I could possibly discover anything at all resembling a fairy-tale in my life.

But some time, perhaps, when you are older, and when--I mean, if we meet again, I will tell you all there is to tell about myself--that is, if you care to listen. It will not be exciting--but you might care to know it."

"Oh, I would, I would!" the girl exclaimed heartily. "But I hate to have you talk of 'if we meet again.' Why, we must, Miss Blake. Don't you know I couldn't live and know I wasn't to see you any more? It's like the most awful thing that could happen to have you go way at all, and the only way I can bear it is thinking of how we'll see each other often and often. Why, my father will be so thankful to you for taking such care of me! I guess he won't know what to do. And when you see him and find how good he is, you won't be afraid a bit. You'll just as lief stay here as not. He's the best, the dearest--oh, you couldn't help but like my father."

A soft hand patted her head in loving appreciation, but not one word said the governess, and the two sat together in silence for some time thinking rather sober thoughts, until the sound of the door-bell broke in upon the stillness and brought Nan to her feet and sent her flying to the bal.u.s.ters to peep over and discover who the late caller might be.

"It's Mr. Turner, and he asked for you," she said, coming back into the room and bending to gather up the scattered news sheets that strewed the floor. "He looked as solemn as an owl, and he asked for you in a voice that made me feel ever so queer--it was so trembly."

"He may be cold," suggested Miss Blake.

She rose and settled the pillows upon the divan. She would have to receive her guest up here. She was not yet permitted to venture below.

She and Nan stood ready to receive him as he entered the room, and after the first greetings the girl was about to sit down beside her friend when the lawyer said abruptly:

"My dear, I must ask you to permit me to talk to Miss Blake alone to-day. I have some private business to transact with her. You will pardon me for asking you to leave us."

Nan rose immediately with a smile of good-natured understanding, but as she turned to leave the room she saw that the face of the governess was deathly white, and she ran back to her, crying:

"What is it; oh, what is it? Are you faint? Let me get you something."

She was in a sudden bewilderment of alarm. Miss Blake gently put her aside, saying calmly,

"Why, nothing is the matter, Nan. Nothing at all, my dear. I am strong and well now, you know. Quite strong and well. You must not make Mr. Turner think I am ill, else he will go away again, and I shall not know what he has to say to me. I am quite able to hear--whatever it is. So go away, dear."

The girl obeyed, and the next moment the door had closed behind her, and only the sound of her voice from without, singing in happy rea.s.surance, broke the stillness of the room where the lawyer and the governess stood facing each other silently.

CHAPTER XX

THROUGH DEEP WATERS

Mr. Turner was the first to speak. "Sit down," he said kindly. "You must not stand."

Miss Blake sank into her place upon the divan, but she did not lean back. She sat stiffly upright, nervously locking and unlocking her fingers in her lap and compressing her lips tightly, but asking no questions--saying no word.

The lawyer drew a chair beside her and slowly, deliberately seated himself in it.

"You remember," he began at length, in a hesitating sort of way, "that I told you some time ago that I had some reason to fear that affairs were not prospering at Bombay. I wish to come to the point at once; to spare you all suspense. I am afraid Mr. Cutler is in some serious difficulty, and--"

He paused. The governess leaned forward, and her breath came quickly.

"Go on," she whispered.

"For some time past his letters have been most unsatisfactory. He has seemed depressed and discouraged. What word I have received from him during the past few months has been of such a character as to lead one to form the gravest suspicions. His letters have been short and hurried--written, evidently, under great mental strain. And latterly they have ceased altogether. For the last two months, ever since you have been ill, I have heard literally nothing from him. His plan was to leave Bombay in September. That he kept to his original purpose I have no reason to doubt. He was on the steamer, or, at least, his name was on its pa.s.senger list. Of course while you were so ill I could say nothing to you of this--besides I had only my suspicions then. But as time pa.s.sed, and no communication from him reached me I grew apprehensive. Within the last two weeks I have sent numberless dispatches to him to his London address, but not one of them has received a reply--in fact, no one of them has been delivered to him.

The people there do not know where he is. I have cabled to Bombay, thinking he might have been detained there unexpectedly, but that, too, has proved of no avail. The Bombay house know nothing of his whereabouts. He left them as he intended to do in September, and since then they have heard from him as little as I."

Miss Blake's eager eyes seemed to search the lawyer through and through. He shifted uneasily in his place.

"It is very difficult to go on," he said, with a nervous, constrained cough.

"Quick! Quick!" whispered the governess. "Tell me everything now--this minute. Tell me! Tell me!"

"There is little more to tell," said Mr. Turner sadly. "This afternoon I received a wire from his London banker, and it seems--that--he, William Cutler, is--is--dead."

There was a low cry. Miss Blake had leaped to her feet at his words, and now she was swaying forward as though too faint to stand. The lawyer sprang forward to save her from falling, but she pushed him away with both hands almost savagely.

"No, no!" she gasped. "I am strong. I am strong. But--G.o.d pity us!

My poor little Nan--and--oh, my poor little Nan!"

She sank back upon the divan and buried her face in her outstretched arms.

The lawyer rose and went to the window.

Outside the wind blew drearily. The bare trees showed but dimly through the gathering dusk. It was a bleak, cold outlook. Presently down the street came a man with a lighted torch and set the gas-flames to flickering in every lamp along his way.

Mr. Turner watched him until he had pa.s.sed out of sight--then he turned about and came back to the sofa once more.

Miss Blake had raised her head and sat staring blankly before her, dry-eyed, but with an expression far sadder than tears; the dull, lifeless look of helpless misery that has not yet been touched with submission.

"Shall I leave you now?" asked the lawyer softly. "Perhaps you would rather be alone. I can come again--whenever you wish. Perhaps it would be better for me to come again when you are stronger--better able to bear it."

She turned her large eyes upon him in a sort of mute supplication. All the light had gone out of them now. Mr. Turner reseated himself and continued:

"He died in a hospital in London of a malignant fever. No one saw him.

He was buried within twenty-four hours, I presume according to the law in such cases. Of course, I have no particulars, only the barest outline of facts. Undoubtedly I shall receive a letter by the next steamer, giving details. It is all desperately sad--heart-breakingly sad. Poor fellow! So young and to die alone among strangers."

Miss Blake stretched out her hands supplicatingly.

"Don't," she pleaded.

"Shall I tell Nan?" Mr. Turner asked after a moment. "Perhaps it would be better if I should. You have undergone enough."

"No, no!" she cried. "No one must tell her but myself. But first I must talk to you about--about--you know when I came here I had reasons for wishing her not to know who I was. Now I will tell her. There is no more need to withhold anything. Delia always knew--from the first--but she never told Nan and she never would have told. But that is all over now. There is no need for secrecy any more. And I will stay with her. I will keep her with me always. She has no one else now, and I--I--I am free to do as I please. If--if he has left her unprovided for, why, that shall make no difference to her. I have plenty and she shall share it with me. She shall never feel the care or want of anything that I can supply. Ah, Mr. Turner, I am glad I came. It has been hard, but I am glad I came."

She broke down completely. Her frail figure shook with shuddering sobs.

But she was not a woman to give way long, and in a moment she regained her self-control.