Think a little--and even your inexperience will see that the mistress of this house is spending more than she can afford, and is likely (unless she has resources that we know nothing about) to be, sooner or later, in serious need of money.'
"This was a new revelation to me, and it altered my opinion of course. But I still failed to see what Mrs. Gallilee's extravagances had to do with her wicked resolution to prevent Ovid from marrying me. Miss Minerva's only answer to this was to tell me to write to Mr. Mool, while I had the chance, and ask for a copy of my father's Will. 'I will take the letter to him,' she said, 'and bring the reply myself. It will save time, if it does nothing else.' The letter was written in a minute. Just as she took it from me, the parlour-maid announced that the early dinner was ready.
"Two hours later, the reply was in my hands. The old father had taken Maria and Zo for their walk; and Miss Minerva had left the house by herself--sending word to Mrs. Gallilee that she was obliged to go out on business of her own.
"'Did Mrs. Gallilee see you come in?' I asked.
"'Yes. She was watching for me, no doubt.'
"Did she see you go upstairs to my room?'
"'Yes.'
"'And said nothing?'
"'Nothing.'
"We looked at each other; both of us feeling the same doubt of how the day would end. Miss Minerva pointed impatiently to the lawyer's reply. I opened it.
"Mr. Mool's letter was very kind, but quite incomprehensible in the latter part of it. After referring me to his private residence, in case I wished to consult him personally later in the day, he mentioned some proceeding, called 'proving the Will,' and some strange place called 'Doctors' Commons.' However, there was the copy of the Will, and that was all we wanted.
"I began reading it. How I pitied the unfortunate men who have to learn the law! My dear Teresa, I might as well have tried to read an unknown tongue. The strange words, the perpetual repetitions, the absence of stops, utterly bewildered me. I handed the copy to Miss Minerva. Instead of beginning on the first page, as I had done, she turned to the last. With what breathless interest I watched her face! First, I saw that she understood what she was reading. Then, after a while, she turned pale. And then, she lifted her eyes to me. 'Don't be frightened,' she said.
"But I was frightened. My ignorant imagination pictured some dreadful unknown power given to Mrs. Gallilee by the Will. 'What can my aunt do to me?' I asked.
"Miss Minerva composed me--without concealing the truth. 'In her position, Carmina, and with her intensely cold and selfish nature, there is no fear of her attempting to reach her ends by violent means. Your happiness may be in danger--and that prospect, God knows, is bad enough.'
"When she talked of my happiness, I naturally thought of Ovid. I asked if there was anything about him in the Will.
"It was no doubt a stupid thing to say at such a time; and it seemed to annoy her. 'You are the only person concerned,' she answered sharply. 'It is Mrs. Gallilee's interest that you shall never be her son's wife, or any man's wife. If she can have her way, you will live and die an unmarried woman.'
"This did me good: it made me angry. I began to feel like myself again. I said, 'Please let me hear the rest of it.'
"Miss Minerva first patiently explained to me what she had read in the Will. She then returned to the subject of my aunt's extravagance; speaking from experience of what had happened in her own family. 'If Mrs. Gallilee borrows money,' she said, 'her husband will, in all probability, have to repay the loan. And, if borrowings go on in that way, Maria and Zoe will be left wretchedly provided for, in comparison with Lady Northlake's daughters. A fine large fortune would wonderfully improve these doubtful prospects--can you guess, Carmina, where it is to come from?' I could easily guess, now I understood the Will. My good Teresa. if I die without leaving children, the fine large fortune comes from Me.
"You see it all now--don't you? After I had thanked Miss Minerva, turned away my head on the pillow overpowered by disgust.
"The clock in the hall struck the hour of the children's tea. Miss Minerva would be wanted immediately. At parting, she kissed me. 'There is the kiss that you meant to give me last night,' she said. 'Don't despair of yourself. I am to be in the house for a month longer; and I am a match for Mrs. Gallilee. We will say no more now. Compose yourself, and try to sleep.'
"She went away to her duties. Sleep was out of the question. My attention wandered when I tried to read. Doing nothing meant, in other words, thinking of what had happened. If you had come into my room, I should have told you all about it. The next best thing was to talk to you in this way. You don't know what a relief it has been to me to write these lines."
"The night has come, and Mrs. Gallilee's cruelty has at last proved too much even for my endurance.
"Try not to be surprised; try not to be alarmed. If my mind to-morrow is the same as my mind to-night, I shall attempt to make my escape. I shall take refuge with Lady Northlake.
"Oh, if I could go to Ovid! But he is travelling in the deserts of Canada. Until his return to the coast, I can only write to him to the care of his bankers at Quebec. I should not know where to find him, when I arrived; and what a dreadful meeting--if I did find him--to be obliged to acknowledge that it is his mother who has driven me away! There will be nothing to alarm him, if I go to his mother's sister. If you could see Lady Northlake, you would feel as sure as I do that she will take my part.
"After writing to you, I must have fallen asleep. It was quite dark, when I was awakened by the striking of a match in my room. I looked round, expecting to see Miss Minerva. The person lighting my candle was Mrs. Gallilee.
"She poured out the composing medicine which Mr. Null had ordered for me. I took it in silence. She sat down by the bedside.
"'My child,' she began, 'we are friends again now. You bear no malice, I am sure.'
"Distrust still kept me silent. I remembered that she had watched for Miss Minerva's return, and that she had seen Miss Minerva go up to my room. The idea that she meant to be revenged on us both for having our secrets, and keeping them from her knowledge, took complete possession of my mind.
"'Are you feeling better?' she asked.
"'Yes.'
"'Is there anything I can get for you?'
"'Not now--thank you.'
"'Would you like to see Mr. Null again, before to-morrow?'
"'Oh, no!'
"These were ungraciously short replies--but it cost me an effort to speak to her at all. She showed no signs of taking offence; she proceeded as smoothly as ever.
"My dear Carmina, I have my faults of temper; and, with such pursuits as mine, I am not perhaps a sympathetic companion for a young girl. But I hope you believe that it is my duty and my pleasure to be a second mother to you?'
"Yes; she did really say that! Whether I was only angry, or whether I was getting hysterical, I don't know.