Part 96 (1/2)
”I do not think so. Prove it.”
”I cannot prove it to a man. I have only a woman's knowledge, of what he does not understand. And besides, Mr. Southwode, it is quite right and proper that it should be so. A man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife; and if his father and mother, surely everybody else.”
”As I am not married, the case does not come under consideration,” said the gentleman carelessly. And after a pause he went on--”I have written several letters to Rotha during the time of my absence, and addressed them to your care. Did you receive them safe?”
”I received several--I do not at this moment recollect just how many.”
”Do you know why they were never answered?”
”I suppose I do,” said Mrs. Busby composedly. ”Rotha has been exceedingly engrossed with her studies.”
”She had vacations?”
”O certainly. She had vacations.”
”Then can you tell me, Mrs. Busby, why Rotha never wrote to me?”
”I am afraid I cannot tell you,” the lady answered slowly, looking into the fire.
”Do you think Rotha has forgotten me?”
”It is not like her, I should say, to forget. I never hear her mention you. But then, I see her little except in the vacations, and not always then; she was often carried off from me.”
”By whom, may I ask?”
”O by her school teacher.”
”And that was--? Pardon me, but it concerns me to know all about Rotha I can.”
”I am not sure if I am justified in telling you.”
”Why not?”
”I think,” said Mrs. Busby with an appearance of candour, ”my guardians.h.i.+p is the proper one for her. How can you be her guardian, while she lives in my house, Mr. Southwode? Or how can you be her guardian out of it?”
”I promised her mother,” he said. ”How a promise shall be fulfilled, may admit of question; but not whether it shall be fulfilled.”
”I know of but one way,” Mrs. Busby went on, eyeing him now intently. ”If you tell me you are intending to take _that_ way,--then I have no more to say, of course. But I know of but one way in which it can be done.”
Mr. Southwode laughed a little, a low, soft laugh, that in him always meant amus.e.m.e.nt. ”I did not promise _that_ to her mother,” he said, ”and I cannot promise it to you. It might be convenient, but I do not contemplate it.”
”Then, Mr. Southwode, I feel it my duty to request that you fulfil your promise by acting through me.”
It was well enough said; it was not without some ground of reason. If he could have felt sure of Mrs. Busby, it might have received, partially at least, his concurrence. But he was as far as possible from feeling sure of Mrs. Busby; and rather gave her credit for playing a clever mask. Upon a little pause which followed the last words, there came a ring at the door and the entrance of the young lady of the house. Antoinette was grown up excessively pretty, and was dressed to set off her prettiness.
Her mother might be pardoned for viewing her with secret pride and exultation, if not for the thrill of jealous fear which accompanied the proud joy. That anybody should stand in this beauty's way!
”Mr. Southwode!” exclaimed the young lady. ”It is Mr. Southwode come back. Why, Mr. Southwode, what has kept you so long? We heard you were coming five months ago. Why didn't you come then?”
Mrs. Busby wished her daughter had not said that.