Gothic fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
She then explained--that that night, just after she had been sent for,
and arrived, as she came into the study where I was lying, she found Mr.
Shenstone and the doctor both standing by me, Mrs. Arnold at the fire,
preparing some medicine; Mr. Rutledge had just passed her in the hall. I
seemed delirious, for I started up and exclaimed something incoherently,
then fell back, and Mr. Shenstone stooping down, said something
soothingly, but instantly started back, with an exclamation of dismay
and astonishment, which of course did not escape either the doctor or
Kitty. The latter hurried up, and stole a glance at me, and she could
scarcely repress a similar cry when she saw the guilty miniature, which
had slipped from my dress, lying in full view. Mr. Shenstone's face was
pale, and he put his hand to his forehead, as if in pain. Her only hope
was, that the light being dim, he had not seen it distinctly, and now
the thing was to get it away before either he or the doctor had had a
second look. Giving the table-cover a sudden jerk, she precipitated the
lamp upon the floor, and involved the room in sudden darkness.
Deprecating her awkwardness, she hurried to pick up the lamp. While the
others were engaged in remedying the accident, and finding a light,
about which there seemed much difficulty, she stole to where I lay, and
attempted to rescue the miniature; but, alas! in vain. Some one had
been there before her, and a cold hand on my breast touched hers, as she
groped for it, and was suddenly withdrawn. It was not my hand, for mine
were burning with fever; and when, after a moment more of delay, a light
was struck, Mrs. Arnold and Mr. Shenstone stood in the middle of the
room by the table, and the doctor at the opposite end, by the
mantelpiece, looking for some matches that Mrs. Arnold had said were
kept there. She looked down at me; I lay quietly, one hand under my
head, the other at my side. An end of blue ribbon hung from my dress; it
had been cut off hastily, for a glance told her the edge was too smooth
to have been torn.
Kitty was a keen observer, and her whole heart was in this mystery; she
watched, as if her life had depended on it, to see who should betray the
least sign of guilt, but she was completely baffled. Certainly not Mr.
Shenstone; he even looked curiously at the ribbon, and then sternly at
Kitty, as if supposing she had taken it; not the doctor, for he was at
the other end of the room, and was more unconcerned and indifferent than
any one present; not Mrs. Arnold, for not having been beside me when the
miniature slipped from my dress, she could not have seen it, and
consequently she could not have taken it in the dark, and so readily
too.
"Ah!" Kitty exclaimed, "I passed a dreadful night, Miss; I didn't know
what it was to close my eyes; such awful thoughts as would come!"
"What do you mean?" I said hurriedly. "Which of them do you think has
it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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