Part 15 (1/2)
A moment later Tom Campbell entered the room. To eyes unaccustomed to the darkness nothing was visible. He did not see his wife, who arose as he entered, and stood with bated breath over the form of the girl on the floor.
”By Jove!” he muttered, ”this room is as dark as Egypt, and then some--Wonder where Florence is. Those d.a.m.ned servants ought to be shot!
Whole house like a confounded coal-pit! Didn't expect me for hours yet, I suppose! That's no reason for living like a lot of d.a.m.ned bats! 'Fraid of musquitoes, I suppose. Where are those matches? _Florence!_ She's evidently gone out--or to bed. Wonder where her little 'kitten' is?
Umm--wonder how much longer Florence means to keep her here? Don't see how the thing's going to go on much longer this way, with a girl with a conscience like that. Perfectly abnormal! Perfectly ridiculous! Umm--no more tact than--”
Nellie moaned aloud. Florence had held her breath, hoping he would go. He had almost reached the door leading to the hall, after his vain search for matches.
”h.e.l.lo! what was that?” said Campbell, turning again into the room.
His wife knew that escape was not now possible. ”Nothing, Tom,” she said, in a voice that trembled a little. ”Go upstairs. I will come up soon.”
”Why, h.e.l.lo, Florence, that you? What are you sitting here in the dark for, all alone? Why didn't you speak to me when I came in? What did you let me--”
Nellie sat up, and in doing so overturned a chair.
Tom's eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. He saw the two women outlined before him, and he saw that Nellie had been on the floor, and that his wife stood over her.
”What's the matter?” he demanded. ”What's up?”
He came toward them. Nellie sprang to her feet, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes and outstretched, imploring hands to wave him back. She was about to rush into a painful explanation. Florence stepped toward her, put both arms about her, and drew her onto the cus.h.i.+oned window-seat at their side.
She knew she must cover the girl's agitation from her husband, and somehow gain time to think.
”Sit down, dear,” she said softly. ”Sit down here by me. You have been asleep. He frightened you coming in so suddenly. You have been dreaming; you talked in your sleep--but it was all nonsense--about an ancestor, whom you blamed very bitterly.”
The girl began to speak impulsively, but Florence checked her.
”Yes, I know. You told me. It was all the greatest stuff. But the part that was true--I doubt if she was to blame. I think, from all I know of--of her, and of the gentleman you mentioned, the one she--seemed to care for--that--oh, no, kitten! I am _sure she_ was not to blame.”
Nellie was trembling violently, clinging to her friend in shame and remorse. Tom stood perfectly quiet in the deeper darkness, back from the window, with a smile on his cheerful face and a puzzled light in his handsome eyes.
”Go upstairs, Tom,” said Florence again, this time in a steadier tone.
”Nellie's head aches; you waked her up too suddenly. We don't want more light--do we, Nellie? Not just now. We have quite light enough for the present. I a.s.sure you we are better off just now in the dark. You would think so yourself if you could see us as we see ourselves. We are quite battered and out at elbow, I a.s.sure you, and not at all fit for fastidious masculine eyes.”
She was pulling herself up well. ”To-morrow we will spruce up our bangs, put on fresh gowns, and not know ourselves for the wretches we are tonight. Until then, Sir Knight, no masculine eye shall rest upon our dilapidation. Go!”
Tom Campbell had seen his wife in this mood before. He went.
All the way upstairs he wondered what had happened. ”Never could make women out anyway,” he muttered; ”least of all, Florence. Women are a queer lot. More you live with 'em, more you don't know what they'll do next. Wonder what in thunder's up. 'Kitten' never said a word; but I'm d.a.m.ned if I did't hear her groan! Guess the little goose feels kind of--queer--with me and the old lady both present. Wonder--whew!--wonder how much I said aloud, and how much they heard when I first went in!
Confounded habit, talking aloud to myself! Got to stop it, old boy; must be done--get you into trouble yet!”
Then he turned off the gas, and was sleeping as peacefully as an infant before the two women below stairs had parted for the night.
When Tom left the room, Nellie began to sob again, and Florence stroked her hair with her icy hands and waited for the girl to speak--or grow calm. And for herself--she hardly knew what she waited for in herself; but she felt that she needed time.
After a long silence she said, quite gently; ”Nellie, little girl, we will go upstairs now; you will go to bed. If you ever feel like it, after you take time to think it over, and your nerves are quiet--if you ever feel like it, you may tell just what trick your troublesome ancestor has tried to play you; but I want to say now, dear, don't feel that you _must_ tell me, nor that I do not know perfectly well that my little kitten is all right, ancestors or no ancestors, and that we, together can somehow find the combination to that Time Lock that so distresses you, and turn it off again. Meantime, little girl _no one_ shall harm you. You shall be let alone; you are all right! Be _sure_ of that. I am. Now, good-night;” and she kissed the still sobbing girl on the forehead and hands, in spite, of her protests and self-accusations.
Suddenly Nellie sank on her knees again, and grasped Florence's dress as she had turned to go:
”O Florence! O Florence! are you human? How _can_ you? You are not like other women! O my G.o.d! if I could only be like you; but you frighten me!