by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER XXX.
THE TELEGRAM.
The Sharstons and Sir John Wallis were enjoying themselves very much atAylmer's Court. Mrs. Aylmer exerted herself to be specially agreeable.She could, when she liked, put aside her affected manner: she could openout funds of unexpected knowledge: she at least knew her own countrywell: she took her guests to all sorts of places of local interest: shehad the best of the neighbours to dine in the evenings: she had goodmusic and pleasant recitations and round games for the young folks, anddancing on more than one occasion in the great hall. The time passed onwings, and the three guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
Both Trevor and Bertha were greatly responsible for this happy state ofthings. Bertha, having quickly discovered that Kitty would not betrayher secret, resumed that manner which had always made her popular.Bertha, in reality one of the most selfish women who ever lived--who hadwrecked more lives than one in the course of her unscrupulouscareer--could be to all appearance the most absolutely unselfish. Ingreat things she was selfish to the point of cruelty; in little thingsshe completely forgot herself. So day after day, by tact, by apparentkindness, by much cleverness, she led the conversation into thebrightest channels. She suggested, without seeming to suggest, this andthat way of passing the time. She was always ready to play anybody'saccompaniment or any amount of dance music: to lead the games: topromote the sports. Kitty could not help owning that she was charming.Now and then, it is true, she sighed to herself and wished that shecould forget that dark spot in Bertha's past.
Sir John Wallis looked often at the strange girl with a feeling ofsurprise struggling with a new-born respect. After all, was he to bringup this girl's past to her? She had conquered, no doubt. She had turnedover a new leaf. Of course, he and Kitty and his old friend, ColonelSharston, would never breathe a word to injure her. And Bertha, who wasquick to read approval in the eyes of those she wished to please, felther heart grow light within her, and thought little of danger.
Trevor, too, was more or less off his guard. He knew what Mrs. Aylmerexpected of him, but he resolved to shut away the knowledge. He likedKitty most heartily for herself. She was a charming companion: she wasone of the most amiable and one of the sweetest girls he had ever met;but the sore feeling in his heart of hearts with regard to Florencenever deserted him, and it was her image which rose before his eyes whenhe looked at Kitty, and it was about Florence he liked best to speak.Kitty added to all her other charms by being delighted to talk on thiscongenial theme. She and Trevor often went away for long walks together,and during those walks they talked of Florence, and Trevor gradually butsurely began to give some of his confidences to his young companion andto tell her how bitterly he felt the position in which Mrs. Aylmer hadplaced her own niece.
"I cannot take her place," he said; "you would not if you were placed inthe same position?"
"If I were you I would not," said Kitty, in her gentle voice; but thenshe added, with a sigh: "I do not think even you know Mrs. Aylmer.Florence used to tell me all about her long ago. She is a very strangewoman. Although she is so kind to us, I am afraid she is terriblyunforgiving; I do not think she will ever forgive poor Flo."
Trevor was silent for a moment, then he said slowly: "This mystery ofthe past, am I never to know about it?"
Kitty looked at him, and her gentle grey eyes flashed. "You are never toknow about it from me," she said.
He bowed, and immediately turned the conversation.
A fortnight had nearly gone by, and the guests now felt themselvesthoroughly at home at Aylmer's Court, when late one afternoon thetelegraph-boy was seen coming down the avenue. He met Trevor and askedhim immediately if Miss Keys were at home. Trevor replied that he didnot know where Miss Keys was. It turned out that she had been away forseveral hours. Trevor consented to take charge of the telegram. As noanswer was possible, the boy departed on his way.
Bertha had gone to see an old lady for Mrs. Aylmer, and did not comehome until it was time to dress for dinner. It was quite late, for theydined at a fashionable hour. The telegram was lying on the hall table.She saw that it was addressed to herself, started, for she did not oftenreceive telegrams, and tore it open. Its contents certainly were thereverse of reassuring. If Florence appeared on the scene now, whatincalculable mischief she might effect! How could she, Bertha, stop theheadstrong girl? She glanced at the clock and stamped her foot withimpatience. The little telegraph-office in the nearest village had beenclosed for the last hour and a half. It would be impossible, except bygoing by train to the nearest town, to send off a telegram that night.
Bertha went up to her room, feeling intensely uncomfortable. In spite ofall her efforts, she could scarcely maintain conversation during theevening which followed.
In the course of that evening Trevor asked her if she had received hertelegram.
"It came two or three hours ago," he said; "the messenger wanted to waitfor an answer, but I knew there was no use in that, as you would not behome until late. I hope you have had no bad news."
"Irritating news," she replied, in a whisper; "pray don't speak of it tothe others. I don't want it mentioned that I have had a telegram."
He glanced at her, and slightly raised his brows. She saw that he wasdisturbed, and that a sort of suspicion was stealing over him. She camenearer, and by way of looking over the illustrated paper which he wasglancing through, said, in a very low voice: "It was from FlorenceAylmer. She has got herself into a fresh scrape, I am afraid."
He threw back his head with an impatient movement.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, but if you wish to do her a good turn you will not mentionthe fact that I have received this telegram."
There was nothing more to be said, and Trevor walked across the room tothe piano. He and Kitty both had good voices, and they sang some duetstogether.
During the night which followed Bertha slept but little. Again and againshe took up Florence's telegram and looked at it. She would be atHamslade, the nearest station to Aylmer's Court, between nine and teno'clock. Bertha resolved, come what would, to meet her at the station.
"Whatever happens, she must not come here," thought Bertha; "but how amI to get to the station, so early too, just when Mrs. Aylmer wants mefor a hundred things? Stay, though: I have an idea."
