'Of course I know,' he replied with a quiet smile.
I shrank back. He made a gesture to the footman, gave me the orthodox
bow, and I was driven away.
Not a little agitated, I asked myself how much more did he know--all?
If he recognised me that night in the wood, he did know not only what
I had done, but what it had cost me to do it! I was no heroine; I have
shewn myself as I was on Philip's wedding-day; but I had not won my
peace without many a weary struggle for it. Once--three months after
my departure from the cottage--I had stolen down in the darkness of
evening to watch the shadows on the blinds, and perhaps catch the
sound of a voice still so terribly dear to me. I saw Philip and Lilian
together, and recognised that they were lovers, and then I knew that
the victory was not yet won.
An hour later some one stooped over me as I lay crouched in the
woods. 'Are you ill? What is the matter with you, good woman?' said
the familiar voice of Robert Wentworth, as he laid his hand upon my
shoulder. 'It is bad for you to be lying here this damp night.'
I shrank away, drawing the hood of my cloak more closely round my
face, which I kept turned away. He stood still a few moments, and then
without another word passed on. I had hitherto always persuaded myself
that he had not recognised me; but now my cheeks grew uncomfortably hot
with the suspicion that he did know me, and that the passing silently
on was the very thing which a delicate consideration for me would
prompt him to do. I was only surprised that it had not occurred to me
before. I never had succeeded in throwing dust into Robert Wentworth's
eyes when I had tried so to do. I knew now that it was to him Jane
Osborne had alluded when she jested about a certain friend of hers who
was so interested in all that concerned me, and whom I was to know
more about by-and-by. I had sometimes a little murmured in my heart
at having to give up Robert Wentworth's friendship with other things,
knowing the worth of it, and he had been watching over me all the time!
He had traced me at once; but respecting my desire to be lost to them
all for a time, he had not obtruded himself upon me, contenting himself
with obtaining an introduction to Jane Osborne and making friends with
her.
That I had been watched over, had been shewn to me in more ways than
one. I could almost smile now, holding the key, as I recollected many a
little speech from Jane Osborne which seemed to breathe some stronger
spirit than her own. Tenderly anxious about me, and inclined to pet me
as she was, she would now and again spur me on to my work with a few
words, which puzzled me extremely from her lips, but which I now could
see she had been instigated to speak by one who knew me better than she
did. But I had not much time for reflection; the drive was only three
miles, and the ground very quickly got over by a couple of spirited
horses. It seemed but a few moments after I had left Robert Wentworth
in the road before I was at home.
It is now time to explain what has doubtlessly suggested itself to
the reader, that I had been acting as superintendent of the Home for
the last twelve months. Nancy had given me a hint that Mrs Gower had
sent in her resignation of the office, having amassed a comfortable
independence. My visit to town the day before I left the cottage had
been for the purpose of seeing Mrs Osborne, the foundress of the Home,
and I had the good fortune to find favour in her sight. She saw that it
was a crisis in my life, and was inclined to be my friend had we two
not needed each other. I went to stay with her a couple of days until
Mrs Gower's departure, and then was duly installed in the latter's
place.
As I expected that Lilian would hope to trace me through Nancy, the
latter was drafted into Jane Osborne's establishment for a few weeks.
Consequently, when Lilian made her appearance at the gates, she was
informed that Nancy had gone to some lady whose address the portress
for the nonce was not acquainted with. As I hoped she would, Lilian
jumped to the conclusion that _I_ was the lady alluded to, and was
thus thrown off the scent as to my whereabouts.
What shall I say--what ought I to say about _my_ management of the
Home? I think as little as possible. But I will say that my success has
been greater than I dared to hope for, although I have had a great deal
to unlearn as well as learn. All sorts of objections were in the outset
made to what were termed my innovations, and perhaps they were rather
daring; but I was beginning to be able to reply to objectors by more
cogent means than words.
As to myself--could anything have been more delightfully refreshing to
a wearied spirit than was the greeting which I received on entering the
long room on my return that afternoon, a welcome from twenty smiling
faces! It is the long room to which the reader has been previously
introduced, with a difference; the high brick wall before the windows
is gone, and a light palisading marks the boundary of the grounds,
without obstructing the view, a very fine one, of the most beautiful
part of Kent. Moreover, the room was to-day _en fête_; decorated with
flowers and evergreens, and with a feast, almost as grand as that I
had just been a guest at, spread upon the long tables in honour of my
sister's wedding-day. I do not like to write the kind words of 'Welcome
home' pattered out around me. Jane Osborne and I went to my room; and
whilst I threw off my finery and slipped on my brown dress (the only
badge of distinction between me and my protégées on ordinary days was
my mother's ring), I set her mind at rest as to the state of mind in
which I had returned.
After tea we had a reading. Reading aloud or music on certain evenings
of the week, whilst the inmates worked, was another of my innovations.
That night too we had a new arrival. As I afterwards learned, she had
been sought out specially to be brought down there, and a new-comer was
always under my particular care, and slept in the place of honour--a
little room adjoining my own. Not a little astonished seemed the poor
waif when ushered into our gaily bedecked room, and received as a
welcome guest to our evening's entertainment. Perhaps my few words to
that poor girl when I bade her good-night was as good a termination to
Philip's wedding-day as could be desired for me.