Armadale's curiosity if he applied to me next. As if he was likely to apply to me! And as if I should listen to him if he did! That's all, mamma. You won't suppose, will you, that I have told you this because I want to hinder Mr. Armadale from marrying Miss Gwilt? Let him marry her if he pleases; I don't care!" said Neelie, in a voice that faltered a little, and with a face which was hardly composed enough to be in perfect harmony with a declaration of indifference. "All I want is to be relieved from the misery of having Miss Gwilt for my governess. I'd rather go to school. I should like to go to school. My mind's quite changed about all that, only I haven't the heart to tell papa. I don't know what's come to me, I don't seem to have heart enough for anything now; and when papa takes me on his knee in the evening, and says, 'Let's have a talk, Neelie,' he makes me cry. Would you mind breaking it to him, mamma, that I've changed my mind, and Iwant to go to school?" The tears rose thickly in her eyes, and she failed to see that her mother never even turned on the pillow to look round at her.
"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Milroy, vacantly. "You're a good girl; you shall go to school."The cruel brevity of the reply, and the tone in which it was spoken, told Neelie plainly that her mother's attention had been wandering far away from her, and that it was useless and needless to prolong the interview. She turned aside quietly, without a word of remonstrance. It was nothing new in her experience to find herself shut out from her mother's sympathies. She looked at her eyes in the glass, and, pouring out some cold water, bathed her face. "Miss Gwilt shan't see I've been crying!" thought Neelie, as she went back to the bedside to take her leave. "I've tired you out," mamma," she said, gently. "Let me go now; and let me come back a little later when you have had some rest.""Yes," repeated her mother, as mechanically as ever; "a little later when I have had some rest."Neelie left the room. The minute after the door had closed on her, Mrs. Milroy rang the bell for her nurse. In the face of the narrative she had just heard, in the face of every reasonable estimate of probabilities, she held to her own jealous conclusions as firmly as ever. "Mr. Armadale may believe her, and my daughter may believe her," thought the furious woman. "But Iknow the major; and she can't deceive _me!_"The nurse came in. "Prop me up," said Mrs. Milroy. "And give me my desk. I want to write.""You're excited," replied the nurse. "You're not fit to write.""Give me the desk," reiterated Mrs. Milroy.
"Anything more?" asked Rachel, repeating her invariable formula as she placed the desk on the bed.
"Yes. Come back in half an hour. I shall want you to take a letter to the great house."The nurse's sardonic composure deserted her for once. "Mercy on us!" she exclaimed, with an accent of genuine surprise. "What next? You don't mean to say you're going to write--?""I am going to write to Mr. Armadale," interposed Mrs. Milroy;"and you are going to take the letter to him, and wait for an answer; and, mind this, not a living soul but our two selves must know of it in the house.""Why are you writing to Mr. Armadale?" asked Rachel. "And why is nobody to know of it but our two selves?""Wait," rejoined Mrs. Milroy, "and you will see."The nurse's curiosity, being a woman's curiosity, declined to wait.
"I'll help you with my eyes open," she said; "but I won't help you blindfold.""Oh, if I only had the use of my limbs!" groaned Mrs. Milroy.
"You wretch, if I could only do without you!""You have the use of your head," retorted the impenetrable nurse.
"And you ought to know better than to trust me by halves, at this time of day."It was brutally put; but it was true--doubly true, after the opening of Miss Gwilt's letter. Mrs. Milroy gave way.
"What do you want to know?" she asked. "Tell me, and leave me.""I want to know what you are writing to Mr. Armadale about?""About Miss Gwilt."
"What has Mr. Armadale to do with you and Miss Gwilt?"Mrs. Milroy held up the letter that had been returned to her by the authorities at the Post-office.
"Stoop," she said. "Miss Gwilt may be listening at the door. I'll whisper."The nurse stooped, with her eye on the door. "You know that the postman went with this letter to Kingsdown Crescent?" said Mrs.
Milroy. "And you know that he found Mrs. Mandeville gone away, nobody could tell where?""Well," whispered Rachel "what next?"
"This, next. When Mr. Armadale gets the letter that I am going to write to him, he will follow the same road as the postman; and we'll see what happens when he knocks at Mrs. Mandeville's door.""How do you get him to the door?"
"I tell him to go to Miss Gwilt's reference.""Is he sweet on Miss Gwilt?"
"Yes."
"Ah!" said the nurse. "I see!"
