I stared in something like a horror upon the large and rather hollow
features which I did not know, smiling very unpleasantly on me; and the
moment it was plain that I saw her, the grey woman began gobbling
and cackling shrilly--I could not distinctly hear _what_ through the
window--and gesticulating oddly with her long hands and arms.
As she drew near the window, I flew to the fireplace, and rang the bell
frantically, and seeing her still there, and fearing that she might break
into the room, I flew out of the door, very much frightened, and met
Branston the butler in the lobby.
'There's a woman at the window!' I gasped; 'turn her away, please.'
If I had said a man, I suppose fat Branston would have summoned and sent
forward a detachment of footmen. As it was, he bowed gravely, with a--
'Yes, 'm--shall, 'm.'
And with an air of authority approached the window.
I don't think that he was pleasantly impressed himself by the first sight
of our visitor, for he stopped short some steps of the window, and demanded
rather sternly--
'What ye doin' there, woman?'
To this summons, her answer, which occupied a little time, was inaudible to
me. But Branston replied--
'I wasn't aware, ma'am; I heerd nothin'; if you'll go round _that_ way,
you'll see the hall-door steps, and I'll speak to the master, and do as he
shall order.'
The figure said something and pointed.
'Yes, that's it, and ye can't miss the door.'
And Mr. Branston returned slowly down the long room, and halted with
out-turned pumps and a grave inclination before me, and the faintest amount
of interrogation in the announcement--
'Please, 'm, she says she's the governess.'
'The governess! _What_ governess?'
Branston was too well-bred to smile, and he said thoughtfully--
'P'raps, 'm, I'd best ask the master?'
To which I assented, and away strode the flat pumps of the butler to the
library.
I stood breathless in the hall. Every girl at my age knows how much is
involved in such an advent. I also heard Mrs. Rusk, in a minute or two
more, emerge I suppose from the study. She walked quickly, and muttered
sharply to herself--an evil trick, in which she indulged when much 'put
about.' I should have been glad of a word with her; but I fancied she was
vexed, and would not have talked satisfactorily. She did not, however, come
my way; merely crossing the hall with her quick, energetic step.
Was it really the arrival of a governess? Was that apparition which had
impressed me so unpleasantly to take the command of me--to sit alone with
me, and haunt me perpetually with her sinister looks and shrilly gabble?
I was just making up my mind to go to Mary Quince, and learn something
definite, when I heard my father's step approaching from the library: so
I quietly re-entered the drawing-room, but with an anxious and throbbing
heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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