England -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Governesses -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
But I was already half way up to Selina's room, and would not hear.
Miss Delves opened the door and looked after them. And at that moment
Jemima appeared. Charlotte Delves laid hold of her, and no doubt turned
her inside out.
"Anne, my dear, if I die you are now provided for. At least——"
"Oh, Selina! Selina! You cannot be going to die!"
"Perhaps not. I hope not. Yes, I do hope it, Anne, in spite of my
fancied warning—which, I suppose, was only a dream after all. My mind
must have dwelt on what you said about Ursula. If you ever relate to me
anything of the sort again, Anne, I'll beat you."
I stood conscience-stricken. But in telling her what I did, I had only
obeyed my mother. I like to repeat this over and over.
"At least, as well provided for as I have it in my power to provide,"
she continued, just as though there had been no interruption. "I have
left you my four thousand pounds. It is out at good interest—five per
cent.; and I have directed it to accumulate until you are eighteen.
Then it goes to you. This will just keep you; just be enough to keep
you from going out as a governess. If I live, you will have your home
with me after leaving school. Of course, that governess scheme was all
a farce; Ursula could only have meant it as such. The world would stare
to see a governess in a granddaughter of Carew of Keppe-Carew."
The will lay on the bed. She told me to lock it up in the opposite
cabinet, taking the keys from underneath the pillow, and I obeyed her.
By her directions, I took the cabinet key off the bunch, locked it up
alone in a drawer, and she returned the bunch underneath her pillow. By
that time she could not speak at all. Charlotte Delves, happening to
come in, asked what she had been doing to reduce her strength like
that.
It was a miserable day after they came in from the funeral. Mr. Edwin
Barley did not seem to know what to do with himself; and the other
people had gone home. Mr. Martin was alone with Selina for a great
portion of the afternoon. At first I did not know he was there, and
looked in. The clergyman was kneeling down by the bed, praying aloud. I
shut the door again, hoping they had not heard it open. In the evening
Selina appeared considerably better. She sat up in bed, and ate a few
spoonfuls of arrowroot. Mr. Edwin Barley, who was in the arm-chair near
the fire, said it was poor stuff, and she ought to take either brandy
or wine, or both.
"Let me give you some in that, Selina," he cried. And indeed he had
been wanting to give it her all along.
"I should be afraid to take it; don't tease me," she feebly answered,
and it was astonishing how low her voice was getting. "You know what
the doctors say, Edwin. When once the inflammation (or whatever it is)
in the throat has passed, then I may be fed up every hour. Perhaps they
will let me begin to-morrow."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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