Tenbruggen's social resources were not exhausted yet. She suddenly shifted to the serious side of her character.
"Perhaps I have improved a little," she said, "as I have advanced in years. The sorrows of an unhappy married life may have had a purifying influence on my nature. My husband and I began badly. Mr. Tenbruggen thought I had money; and I thought Mr. Tenbruggen had money. He was taken in by me; and I was taken in by him. When he repeated the words of the marriage service (most impressively read by your friend the Chaplain): 'With all my worldly goods I thee endow'--his eloquent voice suggested one of the largest incomes in Europe. When I promised and vowed, in my turn, the delightful prospect of squandering my rich husband's money made quite a new woman of me. I declare solemnly, when I said I would love, honor, and obey Mr. T., I looked as if I really meant it. Wherever he is now, poor dear, he is cheating somebody. Such a handsome, gentleman-like man, Selina! And, oh, Mr. Governor, such a blackguard!"
Having described her husband in those terms, she got tired of the subject. We were now favored with another view of this many-sided woman. She appeared in her professional character.
"Ah, what a delicious breeze is blowing, out here in the country!" she said. "Will you excuse me if I take off my gloves? I want to air my hands." She held up her hands to the breeze; firm, muscular, deadly white hands. "In my professional occupation," she explained, "I am always rubbing, tickling, squeezing, tapping, kneading, rolling, striking the muscles of patients. Selina, do you know the movements of your own joints? Flexion, extension, abduction, adduction, rotation, circumduction, pronation, supination, and the lateral movements. Be proud of those accomplishments, my dear, but beware of attempting to become a Masseuse. There are drawbacks in that vocation--and I am conscious of one of them at this moment." She lifted her hands to her nose. "Pah! my hands smell of other people's flesh. The delicious country air will blow it away--the luxury of purification!" Her fingers twisted and quivered, and got crooked at one moment and straight again at another, and showed themselves in succession singly, and flew into each other fiercely interlaced, and then spread out again like the sticks of a fan, until it really made me giddy to look at them. As for Miss Jillgall, she lifted her poor little sunken eyes rapturously to the sky, as if she called the homiest sunlight to witness that this was the most lovable woman on the face of the earth.
But elderly female fascination offers its allurements in vain to the rough animal, man. Suspicion of Mrs. Tenbruggen's motives had established itself firmly in my mind. Why had the Popular Masseuse abandoned her brilliant career in London, and plunged into the obscurity of a country town? An opportunity of clearing up the doubt thus suggested seemed to have presented itself now. "Is it indiscreet to ask," I said, "if you are here in your professional capacity?"
Her cunning seized its advantage and put a sly question to me. "Do you wish to be one of my patients yourself?"
"That is, unfortunately, impossible," I replied "I have arranged to return to London."
"Immediately?"
"To-morrow at the latest."
Artful as she was, Mrs. Tenbruggen failed to conceal a momentary expression of relief which betrayed itself, partly in her manner, partly in her face. She had ascertained, to her own complete satisfaction, that my speedy departure was an event which might be relied on.
"But I have not yet answered you," she resumed. "To tell the truth, I am eager to try my hands on you. Massage, as I practice it, would lighten your weight, and restore your figure; I may even say would lengthen your life. You will think of me, one of these days, won't you? In the meanwhile--yes! I am here in my professional capacity. Several interesting cases; and one very remarkable person, brought to death's door by the doctors; a rich man who is liberal in paying his fees. There is my quarrel with London and Londoners. Some of their papers, medical newspapers, of course, declare that my fees are exorbitant; and there is a tendency among the patients--I mean the patients who are rolling in riches--to follow the lead of the newspapers. I am no worm to be trodden on, in that way. The London people shall wait for me, until they miss me--and, when I do go back, they will find the fees increased. My fingers and thumbs, Mr. Governor, are not to be insulted with impunity."
Miss Jillgall nodded her head at me. It was an eloquent nod. "Admire my spirited friend," was the interpretation I put on it.
At the same time, my private sentiments suggested that Mrs. Tenbruggen's reply was too perfectly satisfactory, viewed as an explanation. My suspicions were by no means set at rest; and I was resolved not to let the subject drop yet. "Speaking of Mr. Gracedieu, and of the chances of his partial recovery," I said, "do you think the Minister would benefit by Massage?"
"I haven't a doubt of it, if you can get rid of the doctor."
"You think he would be an obstacle in the way?"
"There are some medical men who are honorable exceptions to the general rule; and he may be one of them," Mrs. Tenbruggen admitted. "Don't be too hopeful. As a doctor, he belongs to the most tyrannical trades-union in existence. May I make a personal remark?"
"Certainly."
"I find something in your manner--pray don't suppose that I am angry--which looks like distrust; I mean, distrust of me."
Miss Jillgall's ever ready kindness interfered in my defense: "Oh, no, Elizabeth! You are not often mistaken; but indeed you are wrong now. Look at my distinguished friend. I remember my copy book, when I was a small creature learning to write, in England. There were first lines that we copied, in big letters, and one of them said, 'Distrust Is Mean.' I know a young person, whose name begins with H, who is one mass of meanness. But"--excellent Selina paused, and pointed to me with a gesture of triumph--"no meanness there!"
Mrs. Tenbruggen waited to hear what I had to say, scornfully insensible to Miss Jillgall's well-meant interruption.
"You are not altogether mistaken," I told her. "I can't say that my mind is in a state of distrust, but I own that you puzzle me."
"How, if you please?"
"May I presume that you remember the occasion when we met at Mr. Gracedieu's house-door? You saw that I failed to recognize you, and you refused to give your name when the servant asked for it. A few days afterward, I heard you (quite accidentally) forbid Miss Jillgall to mention your name in my hearing. I am at a loss to understand it."
Before she could answer me, the chaise drew up at the gate of the farmhouse. Mrs. Tenbruggen carefully promised to explain what had puzzled me, at the first opportunity. "If it escapes my memory," she said, "pray remind me of it."
I determined to remind her of it. Whether I could depend on her to tell me the truth, might be quite another thing.