'I can very easily help it!'
'No, you only say that because she vexed you. Poor Maria! She is so dreadfully jealous of Lucilla! I think she feels that Lucilla has put her nose quite out of joint, and she is one of those who wants to be held in affection – to know that she is valued. And when she thinks you value Lucilla far more highly than you value her it makes her miserably jealous, and then she says foolish things which she doesn't really mean.'
'Such as saying that Lucilla imposes on me!'
'Yes. Nonsensical, of course: Lucilla is just a spoilt child.' She paused, hesitating for a moment or two, and then said apologetically: 'Will you be cross with me if I say that I do think you have indulged her rather too much?'
'No, how should I be?' said Annis, sighing. 'I have come to realize it myself. You see, she had been kept so close by her aunt, never being allowed to go to parties, or to make friends of her own choosing, and never out of her governess's sight that I made up my mind that I would do what I could to make up for the dreary time she had had ever since her mother died. You can't think what satisfaction it gave me when I watched her huge enjoyment of things other girls think the merest commonplace amusements! I suppose I ought to have foreseen that it would go to her head a little. You'll say I ought also to have foreseen that chaperoning a high-spirited and very pretty girl is not an easy task to undertake! I have a melancholy suspicion that Mr Carleton is odiously right when he says I am not a fit person to have charge of his niece!'
'It was uncivil and ungrateful of him to have said it, but I must own that I think it was the truth. I wish very much that he would place her in somebody else's care.'
'Well, you may be easy, for that is what he is going to do. His purpose in coming here today was to inform me of it. I haven't told Lucilla. I am afraid she will violently object to being taken away from me, so I am leaving her uncle to break the news to her. If she runs away, as it is quite likely she will – indeed, she might even elope with Kilbride! – it is Mr Carleton who will bear the responsibility, and not me!'
'Oh, I hope she won't do anything so foolish!' said Lady Wychwood, in a voice of comfortable conviction. 'I understand that you don't wish to give her up, but you should reflect, dearest, that you would be bound to lose her when she comes out next spring, and the longer she lives with you the harder you would find it to part with her. So don't let yourself be thrown into gloom, will you?'
'Good God, no! I shall certainly miss her, for she is a very engaging girl, and I have become attached to her; but to tell you the truth, Amabel, I do find the task of taking care of her rather more irksome than I had thought it would be. If Mr Carleton can discover, amongst his relations, one who is not only willing to receive her into her household, but one whom Lucilla will be happy to live with until her come-out, I shall be perfectly content to relinquish the child into her charge.'
Lady Wychwood said no more, and it was not long before she went away to bed, saying that she didn't know how it was but that Bath air always made her sleepy. Annis soon followed her, but it was some time before she was able to get into bed, because while Jurby was still brushing her hair a knock on the door heralded the entrance of Lucilla, who stood hesitating on the threshold, and stammering: 'I came – I wanted to say something to you – I will come back later!'
She had obviously been crying, and little though Annis wished for any emotional scenes that day she could not bring herself to repulse the girl. She smiled, and held out her hand, saying: 'No, don't do that! Jurby has just finished making me ready for bed. Thank you, Jurby! I shan't need you any more, so I'll bid you goodnight.'
Jurby went away, sharply adjuring Lucilla not to keep Miss Annis up until all hours: 'For she's fagged to death, as anyone can see! And no wonder! Racketting all over at her age!'
'At my age?' exclaimed Annis, with a comical look of dismay. 'Jurby, you wretch, I'm not in my dotage! '
'You're old enough to know better than to be on the jaunter from morning till night, miss,' replied Jurby implacably. 'The next thing will be that we shall have people saying you're a regular gadabout!'
This made Miss Wychwood burst out laughing, which had the effect of sending her sternest critic out of the room, saying darkly: 'Mark my words!'
'I wonder which of her words I am to mark?' said Miss Wychwood, still laughing.
'She means that you are quite worn out with taking me about, and oh, dear Miss Wychwood, I never meant to wear you out!' declared Lucilla, on a convulsive sob.
'Lucilla, you goose! How can you be so absurd? Pray, how old do you think I am? Take care how you answer, for between you, you and Jurby have made me feel that I am dwindling into the grave, and if anyone else dares to tell me that I'm looking hagged I shall go into strong hysterics!'
But it would not do. Lucilla, having passed from the sulks into remorse and indulged in a flood of tears, was in no mood to deny herself the relief of pouring out her contrition into Miss Wychwood's unwilling ears. It was long before she could be persuaded that her momentary lapse had been quite as much Miss Farlow's fault as hers; and when she had at last been brought to accept the assurance that her regrettable, but very understandable breach of the canons of propriety in which she had been reared had not put her beyond pardon, it was only to fall into an orgy of self-blame for having been so forgetful of all she owed Miss Wychwood as to have teased her to take her to the Dress Ball, and to have behaved thereafter as though she had been born in a back-slum.
By the time Miss Wychwood had succeeded in sending her to bed in a more cheerful frame of mind, it was nearly an hour later, and she herself was feeling quite exhausted and was much inclined to crawl into bed without putting on her nightcap. That, of course, would not do at all, and she was tying the strings under her chin when another knock fell on her door, to be immediately followed by Miss Farlow, also in a lachrymose condition, and more than ordinarily garrulous. She had come, she said, to explain to her dear cousin how it had come about that she had allowed her feelings to overcome her. Annis said wearily: 'Pray don't, Maria! I am too tired to listen, and can think of nothing but my bed. It was an unfortunate contretemps, but too much has been said about it already. Let us forget it!'
But this Miss Farlow declared herself unable to do. She would not for the world keep dear Annis from her bed. 'I shan't stay above a minute,' she said, 'But I shouldn't be able to close my eyes all night if I didn't tell you what my feelings are upon this occasion!'
In fact, she stayed for twenty minutes, saying: 'Just one word more!' every time Annis tried to get rid of her; and might have stayed for twenty more minutes had Jurby not stalked in, and informed her, in forbidding accents, that it was high time she went to bed, instead of talking Miss Annis into a headache. Miss Farlow bridled, but she was no match for Jurby, and pausing only to press Annis to take a few drops of laudanum if she found herself unable to sleep, she bade her a fond goodnight and at last went away.
'There's one that has more hair than wit, and a mouthful of pap besides,' Jurby said grimly. 'It's a good thing I didn't go to bed myself, which I neve
r meant to do, not for a moment, for I guessed she'd come fretting you to death! As though you hadn't had enough trouble this day!'
'Oh, Jurby, hush! You shouldn't speak of her like that!' said Annis weakly.
'Nor I wouldn't to anyone but you, miss, but it's coming to something, after all the years I've looked after you, if I can't speak my mind to you. Next you'll be telling me I'd no right to send her packing!'
'No, I shan't,' sighed Annis. 'I'm too thankful to you for having rescued me! I haven't had anything to trouble me, but from some cause or another I'm out of temper – probably because my accounts wouldn't come right!'
'And probably for quite another reason, miss!' said Jurby. 'I haven't said anything, and nor I don't mean to, for you know your own business best.' She tucked in the blankets, and began to draw the curtains round the bed. 'Which isn't to say I don't know which way the wind is blowing, for I'm not a cabbagehead, and I haven't lived next and nigh you ever since the day you came out of the nursery without getting to know you better than you think, Miss Annis! Now, you shut your eyes, and go to sleep!'
Miss Wychwood was left wondering how many members of her domestic staff also knew which way the wind was blowing; and fell asleep wishing that she did know her own business best.
The night brought no counsel, but it did restore her to something not too far removed from her usual cheerful calm, and enabled her to support with creditable equanimity the spate of conversation which enlivened (or made hideous) the breakfast-table. For this, Lucilla and Miss Farlow were responsible, Miss Farlow being determined to show that she bore Lucilla no ill-will by chatting to her in a very sprightly way, and Lucilla being anxious to atone for her pert back-answer, by responding to these amiable overtures with equal amiability and the appearance of great interest.