I Say No

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER VIII. MASTER AND PUPIL.

  Emily's impulse was to avoid the drawing-master for the second time.The moment afterward, a kinder feeling prevailed. The farewell interviewwith Cecilia had left influences which pleaded for Alban Morris. Itwas the day of parting good wishes and general separations: he had onlyperhaps come to say good-by. She advanced to offer her hand, when hestopped her by pointing to Sir Jervis Redwood's card.

  "May I say a word, Miss Emily, about that woman?" he asked

  "Do you mean Mrs. Rook?"

  "Yes. You know, of course, why she comes here?"

  "She comes here by appointment, to take me to Sir Jervis Redwood'shouse. Are you acquainted with her?"

  "She is a perfect stranger to me. I met her by accident on her wayhere. If Mrs. Rook had been content with asking me to direct her to theschool, I should not be troubling you at this moment. But she forced herconversation on me. And she said something which I think you ought toknow. Have you heard of Sir Jervis Redwood's housekeeper before to-day?"

  "I have only heard what my friend--Miss Cecilia Wyvil--has told me."

  "Did Miss Cecilia tell you that Mrs. Rook was acquainted with yourfather or with any members of your family?"

  "Certainly not!"

  Alban reflected. "It was natural enough," he resumed, "that Mrs. Rookshould feel some curiosity about You. What reason had she for puttinga question to me about your father--and putting it in a very strangemanner?"

  Emily's interest was instantly excited. She led the way back to theseats in the shade. "Tell me, Mr. Morris, exactly what the woman said."As she spoke, she signed to him to be seated.

  Alban observed the natural grace of her action when she set him theexample of taking a chair, and the little heightening of her colorcaused by anxiety to hear what he had still to tell her. Forgetting therestraint that he had hitherto imposed on himself, he enjoyed the luxuryof silently admiring her. Her manner betrayed none of the consciousconfusion which would have shown itself, if her heart had beensecretly inclined toward him. She saw the man looking at her. In simpleperplexity she looked at the man.

  "Are you hesitating on my account?" she asked. "Did Mrs. Rook saysomething of my father which I mustn't hear?"

  "No, no! nothing of the sort!"

  "You seem to be confused."

  Her innocent indifference tried his patience sorely. His memory wentback to the past time--recalled the ill-placed passion of his youth, andthe cruel injury inflicted on him--his pride was roused. Was hemaking himself ridiculous? The vehement throbbing of his heart almostsuffocated him. And there she sat, wondering at his odd behavior. "Eventhis girl is as cold-blooded as the rest of her sex!" That angry thoughtgave him back his self-control. He made his excuses with the easypoliteness of a man of the world.

  "I beg your pardon, Miss Emily; I was considering how to put what I haveto say in the fewest and plainest words. Let me try if I can do it.If Mrs. Rook had merely asked me whether your father and mother wereliving, I should have attributed the question to the commonplacecuriosity of a gossiping woman, and have thought no more of it. Whatshe actually did say was this: 'Perhaps you can tell me if Miss Emily'sfather--' There she checked herself, and suddenly altered the questionin this way: 'If Miss Emily's _parents_ are living?' I may be makingmountains out of molehills; but I thought at the time (and think still)that she had some special interest in inquiring after your father, and,not wishing me to notice it for reasons of her own, changed the formof the question so as to include your mother. Does this strike you as afar-fetched conclusion?"

  "Whatever it may be," Emily said, "it is my conclusion, too. How did youanswer her?"

  "Quite easily. I could give her no information--and I said so."

  "Let me offer you the information, Mr. Morris, before we say anythingmore. I have lost both my parents."

  Alban's momentary outbreak of irritability was at an end. He was earnestand yet gentle, again; he forgave her for not understanding how dear andhow delightful to him she was. "Will it distress you," he said, "if Iask how long it is since your father died?"

  "Nearly four years," she replied. "He was the most generous of men; Mrs.Rook's interest in him may surely have been a grateful interest. Hemay have been kind to her in past years--and she may remember himthankfully. Don't you think so?"

  Alban was unable to agree with her. "If Mrs. Rook's interest in yourfather was the harmless interest that you have suggested," he said, "whyshould she have checked herself in that unaccountable manner, when shefirst asked me if he was living? The more I think of it now, the lesssure I feel that she knows anything at all of your family history. Itmay help me to decide, if you will tell me at what time the death ofyour mother took place."

  "So long ago," Emily replied, "that I can't even remember her death. Iwas an infant at the time."

  "And yet Mrs. Rook asked me if your 'parents' were living! One of twothings," Alban concluded. "Either there is some mystery in this matter,which we cannot hope to penetrate at present--or Mrs. Rook may have beenspeaking at random; on the chance of discovering whether you are relatedto some 'Mr. Brown' whom she once knew."

  "Besides," Emily added, "it's only fair to remember what a common familyname mine is, and how easily people may make mistakes. I should liketo know if my dear lost father was really in her mind when she spoke toyou. Do you think I could find it out?"

  "If Mrs. Rook has any reasons for concealment, I believe you wouldhave no chance of finding it out--unless, indeed, you could take her bysurprise."

  "In what way, Mr. Morris?"

  "Only one way occurs to me just now," he said. "Do you happen to have aminiature or a photograph of your father?"

  Emily held out a handsome locket, with a monogram in diamonds, attachedto her watch chain. "I have his photograph here," she rejoined; "givento me by my dear old aunt, in the days of her prosperity. Shall I showit to Mrs. Rook?"

  "Yes--if she happens, by good luck, to offer you an opportunity."

  Impatient to try the experiment, Emily rose as he spoke. "I mustn't keepMrs. Rook waiting," she said.

  Alban stopped her, on the point of leaving him. The confusion andhesitation which she had already noticed began to show themselves in hismanner once more.

  "Miss Emily, may I ask you a favor before you go? I am only one of themasters employed in the school; but I don't think--let me say, I hope Iam not guilty of presumption--if I offer to be of some small service toone of my pupils--"

  There his embarrassment mastered him. He despised himself not onlyfor yielding to his own weakness, but for faltering like a fool in theexpression of a simple request. The next words died away on his lips.

  This time, Emily understood him.

  The subtle penetration which had long since led her to the discoveryof his secret--overpowered, thus far, by the absorbing interest of themoment--now recovered its activity. In an instant, she remembered thatAlban's motive for cautioning her, in her coming intercourse with Mrs.Rook, was not the merely friendly motive which might have actuated him,in the case of one of the other girls. At the same time, her quicknessof apprehension warned her not to risk encouraging this persistentlover, by betraying any embarrassment on her side. He was evidentlyanxious to be present (in her interests) at the interview with Mrs.Rook. Why not? Could he reproach her with raising false hope, if sheaccepted his services, under circumstances of doubt and difficulty whichhe had himself been the first to point out? He could do nothing of thesort. Without waiting until he had recovered himself, she answered him(to all appearances) as composedly as if he had spoken to her in theplainest terms.

  "After all that you have told me," she said, "I shall indeed feelobliged if you will be present when I see Mrs. Rook."

  The eager brightening of his eyes, the flush of happiness that made himlook young on a sudden, were signs not to be mistaken. The sooner theywere in the presence of a third person (Emily privately concluded) thebetter it might be for both of them. She led the way rapidly to thehouse.

 
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