Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
RUPERT'S SECRET
Olivia was astonished to see the emotion of her aunt, for, as a rule
Miss Wharf was cold and self-contained. The two had never got on well
together, and the elder woman was undeniably jealous of the youth and
superior good looks of the younger. But as Olivia owed bed and board to
her aunt, she always behaved as well as possible to one who was very
trying in many ways. It is only just to say, that Miss Pewsey made
matters much worse by tale-bearing, and probably had she been out of the
house, Miss Wharf and her niece might have got on better. But they could
never have been congenial companions. The difference between their
natures was too great.
"Yes" said Miss Wharf throwing herself back in her seat, and feeling
irritated by the silence of Olivia. "I want an explanation."
"What about?" asked the girl seating herself opposite and folding her
hands, which, Miss Wharf noticed with bitterness, were more slender and
delicate that her own.
"You know well enough."
"If it's about Rupert--"
"There," snapped the aunt, "I knew you would guess. Yes it is about
young Ainsleigh, and how dare you call him Rupert?"
"Because I love him," said Olivia firmly, and looked directly into the
cold blue eyes of her aunt.
"Then you must put this love out of your head. You shall never marry
him--never--never--never."
"If I choose, and I do choose," said Olivia calmly, but with a fine
colour. "I shall certainly marry him. I am of age--"
"Yes, and a pauper."
"Rupert would not marry me for my money."
"He is wise; for you have none."
"It is kind of you to speak to me in this way," said Olivia, "to remind
me of obligations. I am aware that my parents died poor and left me a
penniless orphan. I am aware that you took me in and educated me and--"
"And acted like a mother to you," said Miss Wharf vehemently.
"No. You never acted like a mother. With you, I have had a most unhappy
life."
"Olivia," the elder woman started furiously from her chair, "how dare
you say that. Have I grudged you clothes or food. Did I not send you to
a first-class school and--"
"So far as material things are concerned you have done everything Aunt
Sophia, and I thank you for what you have done--"
"A fine way you have of showing it," scoffed Miss Wharf.
"But a mother you have never been," went on Olivia calmly, "you have
never given me a kind word; you speak to me before visitors as you
should not do: you make me slave for you and run messages and talk of me
to others as though I were a servant. What love have you ever shown me?"
demanded Olivia, starting up in her turn, and also becoming excited. "I
long for love. My heart yearns for it. I would like to be a daughter to
you, but always you have kept me at arm's length. Aunt Sophia let me go.
I can earn my bread as a governess, or as a typist. It will be better
for us both."
"No," said Aunt Sophia, looking as hard as stone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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