by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER VIII.
BERTHA'S QUANDARY.
It was by no means the first time that Bertha Keys had found herself ina quandary. She was very clever at getting out of these tight corners:of extricating herself from these, to all appearances, impossiblesituations; but never had she been more absolutely nonplussed than atthe present moment.
When she and Florence had both left Cherry Court School her prospectshad been dark. She had been dismissed without any hope of a character,and had, as it were, to begin the world over again. Then chance put Mrs.Aylmer the great in her way. Mrs. Aylmer wanted a companion, a clevercompanion, and Bertha was just the girl for the purpose. She obtainedthe situation, managing to get references through a friend, taking careto avoid the subject of Cherry Court School, and never alluding toFlorence Aylmer.
Mrs. Aylmer was very sore and angry just then. She disliked Florenceimmensely for having disgraced her; she did not wish the name ofFlorence Aylmer to be breathed in her presence; she was looking aroundanxiously for an heir. With Bertha Keys she felt soothed, sympathisedwith, restored to a good deal of her former calm. By slow degrees shetold Bertha almost all of her history; in particular she consulted withBertha on the subject of an heir.
"I must leave my money to someone," she said; "I hate the idea of givingit to charities. Charity, in my opinion, begins at home."
"That is does, truly," answered Bertha, her queer green-grey eyes fixedon her employer's face.
"And Florence Aylmer being completely out of the question," continuedMrs. Aylmer, "and Florence's mother being about the biggest fool thatever breathed, I must look in another direction for my heir."
"Why not adopt a boy?" said Bertha, on one of these occasions.
"Adopt a boy? a boy?"
"Well, a young man," said Bertha, colouring.
"What a very extraordinary idea!" was Mrs. Aylmer's response. She lookedwithering things at Bertha, and this young lady found herself more orless in disgrace for the next few days. Nevertheless, the idea tookroot. Mrs. Aylmer, having found girls failures, began to think that allthat was desirable might be encompassed in the person of a boy.
"It would be nice to have a boy about the house. They were cheerfulcreatures. As they grew to be men, they were more or less a protection.Boys, of course, had none of the small ways of girls. A deceitful boywas a creature almost unknown."
So Mrs. Aylmer thought, and she began to look around for a suitable boyto adopt and leave her money to. No sooner did she seriously contemplatethis idea than the opportunity to adopt a very special boy occurred toher. She had an old friend, a great friend, a woman whom as a girl shehad really loved. This woman was now a widow: she was a certain Mrs.Trevor. She had married an army man, who had died gloriously in battle.He had won his V. C. before he departed to a better world. His widow hada small pension, and one son. Mrs. Trevor happened just about this verytime to write to Mrs. Aylmer. She told her of her great and abidingsorrow, and spoke with the deepest delight and admiration of her boy.
"Send Maurice to spend a week with me," was Mrs. Aylmer's telegraphicreply to this epistle.
In some astonishment, Mrs. Trevor packed up her boy's things--he was alad of eighteen at this time--and sent him off to visit Mrs. Aylmer inher beautiful country place.
Maurice Trevor was frank, innocent, open as the day. He pleased thewidow because he did not try to please her in the least. He liked BerthaKeys because all apparently amiable people suited him, and Berthacertainly did look distinctly amiable. Soon she got into his confidence,and he talked of his future. He wanted to go into the army, as hisfather had done before him. Bertha suggested that he should tell hisdesire to Mrs. Aylmer. This Maurice Trevor would not think of doing. Hespent a week, a fortnight, a month with the widow, and went back to hismother, having secured a great deal more than he bargained for in thecourse of his visit.
Mrs. Aylmer now wrote to Mrs. Trevor, said that she liked Maurice verymuch, that she had no heir to leave her money to, and that if Mauricereally turned out quite to her satisfaction she would make him herfuture heir. He must live with her during the holidays; he must give uphis mother's society, except for a very short time in the year; he mustbe thoroughly well educated; must, on no account, enter the army; andmust have a University education.
These terms, generous in themselves, were eagerly accepted by the allbut penniless widow. She had some difficulty, however, in persuadingyoung Trevor to, as he expressed it, sell his independence. In the endher wishes prevailed. He went to Trinity College, Cambridge, tookhonours there, and now at four-and-twenty years of age was to a certainextent his own master, and yet was more tied and fettered than almostany other young man he knew. To tell the truth, he hated his ownposition. Mrs. Aylmer was capricious; she considered that he owed herundying gratitude: that he should only do what she wished. He had littleor no control of her affairs, Bertha Keys being the true mistress.
At the time when this story opens he felt that he could scarcely standhis silken fetters any longer.
* * * * *
Bertha, as she stood now in the moonlit window of her little room at the"Crown and Garter," thought over Maurice Trevor, his future prospects,and his past life. She also thought about Florence.
"From the way he spoke to-night," thought this astute young woman,"very, very little would make him fall in love with Florence. Now, thatis quite the very last thing to be desired. It would be a sort ofrevenge on Mrs. Aylmer, but it cannot be permitted for a single moment.They must not meet again. There are several reasons against that. In thefirst place, it would not suit my convenience. I mean to inherit Mrs.Aylmer's property, either as the heiress in my own person or as the wifeof Maurice Trevor. It is true that I am older than he, but I have threetimes his sense: I can manage him if another girl does not interfere. Hemust leave here immediately. I must make some excuse. His mother is notquite so quixotic as he is; I must manage things through her. One thing,at least, I am resolved on: he must not hear the story of Florence--atleast, not through Florence herself: he must not meet her again, andMrs. Aylmer must not tell him the story of what occurred at Cherry CourtSchool."
Bertha thought a very long time.
"If he really falls in love with Florence, then he must no longer beMrs. Aylmer's heir," she said to herself; "but he shall not meet her. Ilike him: I want him for myself; when the time comes, I will marry him.He shall not marry another woman and inherit all Mrs. Aylmer'sproperty."
Bertha stayed up for some time. It was between two and three in themorning when at last she laid her head on her pillow. She had gonethrough an exciting and even a dangerous day, but that did not preventher sleeping soundly. Early in the morning, however, she rose. She wasdressed before seven o'clock, and waited anxiously for eight o'clock,the time when she might send off a telegram. She procured a telegraphform and carefully filled it in. These were the words she wrote:--
"Make some excuse to summon Maurice to London at once. Must go. Will explain to you when writing. Do not let Maurice know that I have telegraphed.--BERTHA KEYS."
This telegram was addressed to Mrs. Trevor, Rose View, 10 St. Martin'sTerrace, Hampstead. Punctually as the clock struck eight, Bertha wasstanding at the telegraph-office; it was so early that she knew the linewould be more or less clear. She sent off her telegram and returned witha good appetite to breakfast.
At about ten o'clock a telegram arrived for Trevor. He was eating hisbreakfast in his usual lazy fashion, and was inwardly wondering if hecould see Florence again: if he could lead up to the subject of theschool where she had suffered disgrace: and if she herself would explainto him that which was making him far more uncomfortable than theoccasion warranted.
"A telegram for you," said Bertha, handing him the little yellowenvelope. He opened it, and his face turned pale.
"How queer!" he said; "this is from mother; she wants me to come upto-day: says it is urgent. What shall I do, Miss Keys?"
"Why, go, of course," said Bertha
; "here is Mrs. Aylmer. Mrs. Aylmer,Mr. Trevor has had an urgent telegram from his mother. She wants to seehim."
Mrs. Aylmer looked annoyed.
"I wanted you to come with me this morning, Maurice," she said, "on anexpedition to Warren's Cove. I thought you might drive me in a ponycarriage."
"I can do that," said Bertha, in her brisk way.
"Of course you can, my dear, if Maurice feels that he really mustgo.--When can you be back again?"
"I will try and return to-morrow," said Trevor; "but, of course, itdepends on what really ails mother. From the tone of her telegram Ishould say she was ill."
"And I should say nothing of the kind," answered Mrs. Aylmer shortly;"she is one of those faddists who are always imagining that theyrequire----"
"Hush!" said Trevor, in a stern voice.
"What do you mean by 'hush?'"
"I would rather you did not say anything against my mother, please."
He spoke with such harshness and such determination that Bertha trembledin her shoes, but Mrs. Aylmer gave him a glance of admiration.
"You are a good boy to stand up for her," she said; "yes, go, by allmeans: only return to me, your second mother, as soon as you can."
"Thanks," he answered, softening a little; but the gloomy look did notleave his face.
"I will walk with you to the station, Mr. Trevor," said Bertha, whothought that he required soothing, and felt that she was quite capableof administering consolation.
"Thanks," he replied; "I shall ask the station porter to call for myportmanteau."
