“This one won’t,” said Hester. “And I believe it’s true, Cooper, that we own it through the power of the devil. It’s a dreadful place: there’s a blight on it. Grandmamma was turned to stone there, and mamma has been turned to stone, and they’re trying to turn me to stone.”
Poor Cooper was in a fair quandary; she knew that Hester was perfectly capable of rushing out of the house unless she gave her the desired promise, and then with what face would she encounter Lord Yardley, how stammer forth the miserable confession that Hester had been here? Not less impossible to contemplate was the housing of this entrancing imp, and keeping to herself the secret of Hester’s whereabouts. Even more impossible was the third count of giving Hester the promise, and then breaking it by sending a clandestine communication to her mother, for that would imply the loss of Hester’s trust in her, and she could not face the idea of those eyes turned reproachfully on her as on some treacherous foe.
She hesitated, and the artful Hester noted her advantage.
“Darling Cooper, you wouldn’t like me to be turned to stone,” she said. “I know I should make a lovely statue, but it’s better to be alive.”
“Eh, my dear, be a good girl and go back to Stanier,” pleaded Cooper. “Think of your mamma and the anxiety she’s in about you.”
Hester made “a face.” “It’s silly to say that,” she said. “Mamma anxious, indeed! Mamma couldn’t be anxious: she’s dead inside.”
Cooper felt she could not argue the point with any conviction, for she was entirely of Hester’s opinion.
“And I’ve had no tea, Cooper,” said the girl, “and I am so hungry.”
“Bless the child, but I’ll get you your tea,” said Cooper. “And then you’ll be a good girl and let me send off a telegram....”
What Hester’s future plans really were she had not yet determined to herself; she was still acting under the original impulse which had made her run away. Come what might, she had found the idea of Stanier utterly impossible that morning; the only thing that mattered was to get away.