“No, I am not unhappy about her, but about you.”
“About me, Mrs. Rayner!” I exclaimed, in astonishment.
“Hush!” she whispered softly. She took her arms from her child’s neck, and told her to go and play; and Haidee obediently walked to the window, where her doll was lying on the floor.
“It is as much as my wretched life is worth to warn you,” whispered she, taking the hand I had laid on her lap, and clasping and unclasping her own about it nervously. “You are kind-hearted, and innocent as a child—I see that now,” she continued, her eyes wandering restlessly about the room.
I began to be afraid of a fit of hysterics, or worse; and I begged her not to talk if it fatigued her, and asked her if I should fetch some eau-de-cologne. She shook her head.
“I am not hysterical—don’t be afraid of that,” said she, turning her great eyes upon me, as if in reproach. “I only want to tell you this—when you arrive in London to-morrow, if your mother is not waiting at the station, insist upon going to her house before you go farther. Do not on any account enter another train without her. Call the guard—make a disturbance at the station—do anything rather.”
“But how can I?” said I gently. “I cannot insist against Mr. Rayner. He would not listen. You know that, when he tells one to do a thing, there is such a strong authority about him, one must do it.”
“Try, try!” said she earnestly. “I believe you have the power, if you have the courage. You have thwarted his wishes as nobody else has ever dared to do—in sending for Doctor Lowe, in taking Haidee upstairs. Try once more. It is not Sarah’s safety that is concerned this time, nor Haidee’s, but your own. For Heaven’s sake, try!”
She lay back in the chair, her face, neck, and hands all wet with the violence of her feeling and her unaccustomed vehemence. Yet her voice had never once risen above a whisper that could not have been heard at the other end of the room. She raised her head again, and read with unexpected penetration the look on my face.
“I am not mad, Miss Christie,” she said quite quietly. “Think me mad if you like—if your mother meets you at Liverpool Street Station. But, if not, remember my warning; it may have cost me my life.”