“What! the matron?”
“Yes, the woman that has used these poor children like a savage. O, Colin, it is frightful.”
“You should sit down, you are almost ready to faint.”
“Nothing! nothing! But the poor girls are in such a state. And that Maria whom we taught, and—” Alison stopped.
“Did she know you?”
“I can’t tell. Perhaps; but I did not know her till the last moment.”
“I have long believed that the man that Rose recognised was Mauleverer, but I thought the uncertainty would be bad for Ermine. What is all this?”
“You will hear. There! Listen, I can’t tell you; Lady Temple did it all,” said Alison, trying to draw away her arm from him, and to assume the staid governess. But he felt her trembling, and did not release her from his support as they fanned back to the astonished group, to which, while these few words were passing, Francis, the little bareheaded white-aproned Mary Morris, and lastly Lady Temple, had by this time been added; and Fanny, with quick but courteous acknowledgment of all, was singling out her cousin.
“Oh, Rachel, dear, I did not mean it to have been so sudden or before them all, but indeed I could not help it,” she said in her gentle, imploring voice, “if you only saw that poor dear child’s neck.”
Rachel had little choice what she should say or do. What Fanny was saying tenderly and privately, the two boys were communicating open-mouthed, and Mrs. Curtis came at once with her nervous, “What is it, my dear; is it something very sad? Those poor children look very cold, and half starved.”