Gerard sincerely hoped that Rachel would not have reason to regret the appearance of the military-looking man who had been in the army, and would not give his name. But the strange episode suggested to his mind that the police were making inquires about the Davisons, and that the white-mustached gentleman would prove to be one of their emissaries.
“It’s very strange that neither she nor Lady Jennings should be back to dinner, isn’t it?” she went on. “It’s past eight, and they usually dine at half-past seven, I know; and I’m so dreadfully hungry!”
“Are you going back to Richmond to-night?”
“I hope not,” replied she merrily; “because I should like Lady Jennings to invite me to stay the night, and to take me to a theatre. But it’s getting too late for anything that begins before nine!” she added with a sudden change to a dismal look, as she glanced at the ormolu clock which stood on a bracket on the wall.
“I should have thought you’d be having holidays now,” said he, “at the end of July.”
“Yes, we have broken up, and I’m only staying on there until Rachel has made up her mind what I’m to do during the holidays. Perhaps she and I and mamma shall all go away together somewhere, but it depends on Rachel’s work,” she added, with a sort of earnest pride that seemed to Gerard infinitely touching.
“It’s very irregular, this work of hers,” he said, in a voice which shook in spite of himself.
He wanted to learn what he could, but it seemed dreadful to have to talk about it to this child, who rejoiced so openly in her sister’s cleverness, and had no thought of harm or of wrong.
“Oh yes, very,” replied Lilian quickly. “That’s the worst part of it, that she never knows what she will have to do next, and has to be at the beck and call of the people who employ her. It’s dreadful to me,” she said, with sudden earnestness, “to have to know that poor Rachel is making herself a martyr to me and mamma, and working too hard, much too hard, just to earn money for us. I do so wish I could do something to help her; but I have no talent at all for anything, and can never hope to be anything but a burden to anybody.”
“I don’t think,” answered Gerard, smiling, “that you will really have to look upon yourself in that light very long! I think I can answer for it that you’ll find quite a number of people not merely willing, but anxious, to take the burden, as you call it, off your sister’s shoulders very quickly indeed, when once you’re ‘out.’”