England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
I knew the housekeeper to possess a woman's full share of that amicable
weakness of the sex which goes by the name of "Curiosity." I had also,
in various indirect ways, become aware that my senior pupil's strange
departure had largely increased the disposition among the women of my
household to regard him as the victim of an unhappy attachment. The time
was ripe, as it seemed to me, for checking any further gossip about him,
and any renewed attempts at prying into his affairs in his absence.
"Your only business in my pupil's bedroom," I said to the housekeeper,
"is to see that it is kept clean, and that it is properly aired. There
must be no interference, if you please, with his letters, or his papers,
or with anything else that he has left behind him. Put back directly
whatever you may have found in his room."
The housekeeper had her full share of a woman's temper as well as of a
woman's curiosity. She listened to me with a rising color, and a just
perceptible toss of the head.
"Must I put it back, sir, on the floor, between the bed and the wall?"
she inquired, with an ironical assumption of the humblest deference to
my wishes. "_That's_ where the girl found it when she was sweeping
the room. Anybody can see for themselves," pursued the housekeeper
indignantly, "that the poor gentleman has gone away broken-hearted. And
there, in my opinion, is the hussy who is the cause of it!"
With those words, she made me a low curtsey, and laid a small
photographic portrait on the desk at which I was sitting.
I looked at the photograph.
In an instant, my heart was beating wildly--my head turned giddy--the
housekeeper, the furniture, the walls of the room, all swayed and
whirled round me.
The portrait that had been found in my senior pupil's bedroom was the
portrait of Jeromette!
IX.
I HAD sent the housekeeper out of my study. I was alone, with the
photograph of the Frenchwoman on my desk.
There could surely be little doubt about the discovery that had burst
upon me. The man who had stolen his way into my house, driven by the
terror of a temptation that he dared not reveal, and the man who had
been my unknown rival in the by-gone time, were one and the same!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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