Part 53 (1/2)
Kate drew her into the office and shut the door. ”What have you told her?” she demanded.
”Who, Miss Jacky? I ain't told her nothin'. I didn't git a chance.”
”Thank G.o.d!” murmured the mother.
All the way home her head had been spinning like a top with plans for keeping Jacqueline from knowing of her interference.
”She came in all wet and lookin' so queer!--No'm, she wa'n't cryin'
then, but she looked kind o' pinched and old-like. She didn't say nothin' to me, except ask for the letter she done left for you, and when I give it to her, she thanked me that pretty way she has, for bein' so good to her.--Me, _good_ to her! when I'd gone and told, and everything!” Mag began to blubber.
”Telling,” muttered Kate, ”was the one good thing you did for her.--What then?”
”Why, she went in her room an' locked the door, and when I axed through the keyhole didn't she want somethin' hot to drink, 'cause she was so wet, she said no, just let her alone, and please not to wake her up for breakfas' 'cause she might have a headache.”
Kate's face softened. ”Poor child! If it's nothing worse than a headache!--Now, then, my girl, I want to tell you what your 'goodness'
might have done for Jacqueline.” Her voice became harder and sterner than Mag had ever heard it. ”Should you like to see her such a creature as you were before I brought you here, hunted, looked down upon, ashamed to face people--the kind of woman that the Night Riders try to drive out of decent communities?”
The girl cowered away from her. ”Miss Jacky like _me_? Oh, she couldn't be, not ever! She's a lady,” she cried piteously. ”Her fella would have married her--you'd 'a' made him!”
”He could not, as it happens. He would have turned her, perhaps, into just such an outcast as you were, and you helping him! This is the return you have made me for my charity, Mag Henderson!”
The girl crouched with her face hidden, as if she expected a beating. ”I didn't know, I didn't know!” she moaned. ”I just wanted her to be happy with her fella--What you goin' to do with me, Miss Kate?”
”G.o.d knows,” said the other bitterly.
Mag caught at her skirts, lifting her face in abject pleading. ”Whatever you does to me, don't send little Kitty away! Don't git a mad on the baby! Say you won't, Miss Kate, say you won't!”
”Nonsense!” Kate spoke more gently. ”n.o.body's going to 'do' anything to you, or to the baby, either. I suppose you cannot help your ignorance.
That's our job.--But it is evident that you can't be trusted.”
”Yes'm, I kin!” sobbed the girl, childishly. ”Yes'm, I kin, too! Just you try me.”
”Very well, I'll try you.” Kate made a quick decision. ”Listen to me, Mag! It was I who met Mr. Channing and--persuaded him to go away. But Jacqueline does not know this, and she must never know it. I will not have my girl shamed before her mother. She must think he went off of his own accord, because he was afraid to take her.--Do you understand?”
Mag nodded, sniffling.
”You are to say nothing of what has happened to-night, either to Jacqueline or to any one else. You have been sound asleep all night! Do you hear?”
”But supposin',” said Mag fearfully, ”supposin' Miss Jacky axes me questions?”
”Then you must lie. You know how to do that, I suppose!” said Kate, with some impatience.
As it happened, that was one thing Mag Henderson did not know how to do, certainly not with the clear, candid eyes of Jacqueline upon her. But an alternative occurred to her, and she made her promise.
”I won't never tell, I won't never tell n.o.body, Miss Kate, cross my heart and hope to die!”
”Very well, then.” Mrs. Kildare was rather touched by the girl's contrition, her eagerness to be trusted. She held out a forgiving hand.