CHAPTER XI. — THE VISION RECURS
I hated asking auntie questions, they seemed to worry and distress her so; but that evening, in view of my projected visit to Torquay, I was obliged to cross-examine her rather closely about many things. I wanted to know about my Torquay relations, and as far as possible about my mother’s family. In the end I learned that the Willie Moores were cousins of ours on my mother’s side who had never quarrelled with my father, like Aunt Emma, and through whom alone accordingly, in the days of my First State, Aunt Emma was able to learn anything about me. They had a house at Torquay, and connections all around; for the Moores were Devonshire people. Aunt Emma was very anxious, if I went down there at all, I should stop with Mrs. Moore: for Minnie would be so grieved, she said, if I went to an hotel or took private lodgings. But I wouldn’t hear of that myself. I knew nothing of the Moores—in my present condition—and I didn’t like to trust myself in the hands of those who to me were perfect strangers. So I decided on going to the Imperial Hotel, and calling on the Moores quietly to pursue my investigation.
Another question I asked in the course of the evening. I had wondered about it often, and now, in these last straits, curiosity overcame me.
“Aunt Emma,” I said unexpectedly after a pause, without one word of introduction, “how ever did you get those scars on your hand? You’ve never told me.”
In a moment, Aunt Emma blushed suddenly crimson like a girl of eighteen.
“Una,” she answered very gravely, in a low strange tone, “oh, don’t ask me about that, dear. Don’t ask me about that. You could never understand it.... I got them... in climbing over a high stone wall... a high stone wall, with bits of glass stuck on top of it.”
In spite of her prohibition, I couldn’t help asking one virtual question more. I gave a start of horror:
“Not the wall at The Grange!” I cried. “Oh, Aunt Emma, how wonderful!”
She gazed at me, astonished.