by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER III.
A STARTLING MEETING.
Kitty went out soon afterwards and joined Florence on the beach. Theywalked up and down, chatting eagerly. For a time nothing whatever wassaid about Mrs. Aylmer's queer suggestion; then suddenly Florence spokeof it.
"There is one thing I ought to say, Kitty."
"What is that?" asked Kitty.
"You must never mind the little Mummy's oddities. She has lived alone onextremely circumscribed means for many years, and when she gets an ideainto her head she broods on it."
"You mean, of course, what she said with regard to Mr.--Mr. Trevor,"said Kitty, flushing as she spoke.
"Yes, it wasn't nice of her," said Florence, with a sigh; "and we won'teither of us think of it again. Kitty, I have made up my mind not tomarry."
"Why so?"
"For a great many reasons. One of them is that I vastly prefer myindependence. Another is that I do not think a rich nice man is likelyto come in my way, and I do not want to have anything to do with a poorman, whether he is nice or nasty. I have seen too much of poverty. Ihave had it close to me all my days. I mean to do well in the world: tobe beholden to no one. In a fortnight's time I am going to London. I amjust taking this one fortnight of rest and refreshment: then I go toLondon. I have in my trunk half a dozen introductions to differentpeople. I mean to use them; I mean to get something to do; I mean tostep from the lowest rung of the ladder up to the highest. I mean to bea success: to prove to the world that a girl can fight her own battles,live her own life, secure her reward--be, in short, a success."
"Why, Florence," said her companion, "how well you speak; how excitedyou look!"
"I have not gone through all I have gone through in my life fornothing," was Florence's reply. "I will never scheme again, I will neveragain do anything underhand, and I will not marry the man my mother hassingled out for me."
She had scarcely said the words before the attention of both girls wasarrested by the sound of a merry laugh not ten yards away. They bothlooked round, and Florence's cheeks first of all grew vivid and thenturned white. A gracefully-dressed woman, or rather girl, was crossingthe sands, accompanied by a young man in a grey suit. The man had broadshoulders, closely-cropped, rather fair hair, a sweeping moustache, andeyes as blue as the sky. He had a nice, open sort of face. He was tall,nearly six feet in height, and held himself as erect as a grenadier. Hewas bending towards the girl and talking to her, and the girl continuedto laugh, and once she glanced with a quick, darting movement in thedirection where Kitty and Florence were sitting. Then, touching hercompanion on the arm, she said: "I am tired; will you take me back tothe hotel?"
Neither Kitty nor Florence said a word until the pair--the good-looking,well-set-up young man and the girl in her pretty summerdress--disappeared from view. Then Florence turned to Kitty.
"It is?" said Florence.
Kitty nodded.
"Who would have believed it?" continued Florence. She started up in herexcitement.
"I do not think I can quite stand this," she said.
"But where has she come from?" said Kitty again.
"How can I tell? I never want to see her wicked face again."
"She looks just as young as she did six years ago," said Kitty. Then sheadded impulsively: "I am sorry I have seen her again; I never could bearher face. Do you think her eyes were set quite straight in her head,Florence?"
"I don't know anything about that," answered Florence recklessly. "Longago she did me a great deal of harm. There came a time when I almosthated her. Whether her eyes are straight or not, her mind at least iscrooked. Who is that man she is with?"
"He is good-looking and looks nice also," said Kitty.
Florence made no reply. The girls paced up and down together; butsomehow the edge of the day's enjoyment seemed gone. They went in totheir midday meal between twelve and one, and afterwards Kitty, who saidshe felt a little tired, went to lie down. Florence, however, was stillrestless and perturbed; she hated the thought of the vicinity of BerthaKeys, and yet she had a curious longing to know something about her.
"I am not going to fight shy of her or to show her that I am in theleast afraid of her," thought Florence; "I can make myself much moredisagreeable to her and much more dangerous than she can ever makeherself to me. I wonder where she is staying?"
Mrs. Aylmer proposed that she and her daughter should spend theafternoon on the sands.
"Let us visit the shrimp-woman and get some fresh shrimps and perhaps acrab or a lobster for supper," said the little Mummy, holding out a baitwhich would have quite won the day in the old times. But Florence hadoutgrown her taste for these special dainties.
"I want to go out alone, Mummy," she said; "you and I and Kitty can havea walk after tea, but just for the present I must be alone." She pinnedon her hat, put on her gloves, and left the cottage.
Mrs. Aylmer stood in the porch and watched her.
"A good girl, a fairly good-looking girl too," she said to herself, "butobstinate, obstinate as a mule. Even that trouble of long ago has nottamed her. She is the image of her poor dear father; he always was a manwith a desperate will of his own."
Miss Aylmer watched Florence until she disappeared in the direction ofthe pier. There was a bench there, and a girl was seated on it. She worea pink dress of some washing material and a large black shady hat.Florence came nearer and nearer. The girl, who was reading a book,dropped it and gazed in her direction. Presently Florence found herselfwithin less than two hundred yards from the place where the other girlwas seated. At this moment the girl flung down her book, uttered a hastyexclamation, and came forward.
"Is it or is it not Florence Aylmer?" she said. She held out both herhands, uttering a little cry of apparent pleasure.
Florence did not notice the outstretched hands. She came up to her.
"I have come on purpose," she said; "I knew you were here. What are youdoing here?"
"Why should I tell you what I am doing?" replied Bertha. Her eyesslightly contracted, she pushed her hair away from her forehead, thenshe looked full at Florence and uttered a laugh. "What is the good ofquarrelling?" she said. "We have met. I am in the running; you are outof it. I am up and you are down. My prospects are first-rate, yours----"
"What do you mean? How can you tell anything about my prospects? Why doyou trouble me? Why did you come to meet me just now?"
"Speak the truth," said Miss Keys; "were you not coming on purpose tosee me?"
Florence was silent for a moment.
"I recognised you this morning," she said, "and I was restless to knowwhy you were here."
"Ah, curiosity, you are Eve's own daughter," said Bertha Keys, with alaugh. "Well, now that we have met, we may as well talk the thing out.Can you deny that you are down and I am up?"
"I neither deny nor affirm your statement," replied Florence. "I havenever heard of you--I have never mentioned your name since thatdreadful day at Cherry Court six years ago."
"Six years this autumn--not quite six years yet," replied Bertha,correcting her. "Yes, I too remember the day," she said thoughtfully."It seemed a bad day for me, and yet it was a good one. I have featheredmy nest. You stepped out of it and I stepped in. Do you understand?"
"I don't."
"You have grown a good deal, Florence Aylmer," said Bertha, looking herall over. "You are what would be called a fine young woman. If you hadhad the advantages of a refined life, of very good dress, you might, nowthat you are grown up, command almost any future. As it is"--sheshrugged her shoulders.
"What is the matter with my dress?" said Florence; "you always werequeer and rude, Bertha, and time has not improved you."
"You cannot say that I am badly dressed," said Bertha Keys, and sheglanced at her exquisitely-cut pink zephyr skirt, her pretty blouse, andher neat shoes.
Florence also eyed her all over.
"You are well got up," she said; "but what of that? Your face neverchanges."
"Thank you for the compliment," rep
lied Bertha; "I cannot say that youare well got up, and your face, if it has changed, is not more beautifulthan it promised to be."
"Pray leave my face alone; it belongs to me, not to you," retortedFlorence, with some spirit.
"Do you want to know what I am doing now: how I am managing to live?"said Bertha.
"You can tell me if you please; if you prefer not to say anything, itdoes not matter in the least."
"But it does matter; it matters a good deal," replied Bertha. "You didsomething very silly long ago. You thought to succeed, but you failed.It was not my fault. I did what I could for you. If I was clever then, Iam still more clever now. I have a gift of writing, but I need not wearmy brain out thinking of curious essays and well-devised stories andclever plots. I am working at my own story, and I think it will come offwell."
"But what do you mean? Where are you?"
"We are staying at the 'Crown and Garter' for the present."
"We?" said Florence, in a questioning tone.
"Yes; how stupid you are! Have not you guessed! Mrs. Aylmer, Mr. Trevor,and I."
"You don't mean it?" said Florence, springing to her feet. "Aunt Susan!Are you staying with her?"
"Yes, and I fancy I am indispensable to her. I have lived with her fornearly six years. I manage her affairs; I write her letters; I attend toher business; she consults me about everything. She goes where I like;she does what I want. The nest is comfortable. It was meant for you, butit fits me. Now perhaps you know."
"And Mr.--Mr. Trevor?" said Florence, in a trembling voice.
"Oh, he fits me too. He is a very good fellow, very nice indeed. Hethinks I am quite an angel; he admires my talent, as he calls it. Ibelieve he would be very sad if I were not there; he is much more likelyto go than I am. Yes, Florence, you did well for me when you lost thatScholarship. I thought I would tell you."
"Oh! oh!" said Florence, trembling and turning pale; "but if Aunt Susanknew! If she knew!"
"Yes, if she knew," said Bertha, "but she does not know, and of courseyou won't tell her."
"You think I won't; but--but Mummy will."
"I don't think so. It would be much worse for yourselves if you did. Ican hoodwink her; I can turn her against your mother; I can make hermore bitterly opposed to you. Now you have to understand. I have longfelt that I must come to an understanding with you. You must keepsilence. If you speak you will do very little good, but it is possibleyou may give me an uncomfortable half-hour. Now, I don't care to have anuncomfortable half-hour, and, above all things, I don't want Mr. Trevorset against me."
"Do you--do you mean to marry him?" said Florence abruptly.
Bertha Keys coloured very faintly.
"You are impertinent," she said; "I refuse to answer. I am comfortablewhere I am, and I mean to stay there. If you put Mr. Trevor against me,if you put Mrs. Aylmer against me, it will be all the worse foryourself; but if, on the other hand, you respect my secret, I can makethings perhaps a shade more comfortable for you."
"Oh, oh, Bertha, no," said poor Florence. She covered her face--hercheeks were crimson. "I hate you! I can never be your friend. Why didyou come here?"
"I came on purpose. I have not lost sight of you. You know somethingabout me which I do not want the world to know. You could make thingsuncomfortable for me. I guessed that you would be coming here about now,and Mrs. Aylmer, Mr. Trevor, and I came to the 'Crown and Garter' at mysuggestion. We will leave again the day after to-morrow; but not--notuntil you have made me a promise."
