English fiction -- 19th century; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
"Jane stays down here with her friends; she is never at a loss for
companions," resentfully spoke Miss Hallet. "She sits with old Goody
Dance: and she is a good deal with Miss Nettleby and with Pike's
daughter; sometimes staying in one place, sometimes in another. Why,
one evening last week--Thursday was it? yes, Thursday--she said she
was here, helping you."
"So she was here. We had a party in the best room that night. Jane ran
in; and, seeing how busy I was, she helped me to wash up the glass:
she's always good-natured and ready to forward a body. She stayed here
till half-past eight o'clock."
Miss Hallet's face looked doubly grim. It was nearer half-past ten
than half-past eight when Miss Jane made her appearance at home--as
she well remembered.
"And now don't you go blowing up Jane through what I've said,"
enjoined Mrs. Bent. "We were young ourselves once, and liked our
liberty. She's thoughtless; that's all; if she were a few years older,
she would have the sense to know that folks might get talking about
her. Just give her a caution, Miss Hallet: and remind her that Mr.
Harry Castlemaine is just about as far above her and us, as the moon's
higher than that old weather-cock a-top of the Nunnery."
Miss Hallet went homewards with her eggs. She had perfect confidence
in Jane, in her conduct and principles. Jane, as she believed, would
never make a habit of walking with Mr. Harry Castlemaine, or he with
her: they had both too much common sense. Unless--and a flush
illumined Miss Hallet's face at the sudden thought--unless they had
fallen into some foolish, fancied love affair with one another.
"Such things have happened before now, of course," reasoned Miss
Hallet to herself as she began her ascent of the cliff but her tone
was dubious, almost as though she would have liked to be able to tell
herself that they never had happened. "But they would know better;
both of them; remembering that nothing could come of it. As to the
walking together--I believe that's three parts Mrs. Bent's
imagination. It is not likely to be true. Good morning, Darke!"
A fisherman in a red cap, jolting down the cliff, had saluted Miss
Hallet in passing. She went on with her thoughts.
"Suppose I watch Jane a bit? There's nothing I should so much hate as
to speak to her upon a topic such as this, and then find I had spoken
without cause. It would be derogatory to her and to me. Yes," added
Miss Hallet with decision, "that will be the best plan. The next time
Jane goes out at dusk, I'll follow her."
The next time happened to be that same evening. Miss Hallet gave not a
word of scolding to Jane all day: and the latter kept diligently to
her work at Mrs. Castlemaine's handkerchief. At dusk Jane put her warm
dark cloak on, and the soft quilted bonnet.
"Where are you going to-night?" questioned Miss Hallet then, with a
stress of emphasis on the to-night.
"Just down the cliff, aunt. I want to get the wool Susan Pike was to
buy for me at Stilborough."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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