"I want you to promise me," I said, "that, whatever changes go on, you will not let any one send mamma's maid, Patience, away?"
He looked dreadfully shocked.
"Your mother's maid, child?" he said. "Why, who dare even suggest such a thing? Certainly not. The whole household is constructed with a view to your mother's happiness."
So she had told him, and so he believed. It was quite useless talking; he did not see, he did not, indeed.
I knew Emma disliked her and Patience, too. The farce of her being my mother's companion was very soon played out. She never came near, unless my father went, and then she did not remain long. But—and we, the three who loved her, noted it with dismay—every day Miss Reinhart became more of a companion to my father. She ingratiated herself by degrees. At first it had been merely his breakfast, afterward she offered her services over his letters; she answered many of them in a clear, legible hand that pleased him, because it was so easily read. Then his accounts. I went in several times and found them seated at the table, side by side, with papers, ledgers and books, yet not so deeply engrossed but that every now and then they had a jest and a merry laugh.
Did he think of my mother during those hours? Did her pale, sweet, wistful face ever come between him and that beautiful woman?
Then I noticed that he would say to her:
"Come out for a few minutes, Miss Reinhart, out on the terrace here, and let us have some fresh air. If you will permit me, I will smoke my cigar. Will you come, Laura?"
I suppose it was natural; she was a beautiful woman, full of talent and animation, brilliant and fascinating, only too anxious to please him in every way, laying herself out to captivate him, and he never could endure being alone.
Ah, me! what my childish heart suffered—of rage, and terror, and pain—when I saw my mother's eyes turned wistfully to the door, waiting, watching for him and asking me, in the sweet, low tones, if I knew where he was. I learned my lesson sharply enough. The first time she asked me one bright, sunny morning, when she seemed a little better, and had a great desire to go out.