“No it ain’t, it’s the girl herself. I don’t like the way she has of looking at me and through me.”
“Why, that’s the way with that kind. It’s what the lords like.”
“I don’t like it, then, and I tell you she’s got to be took down!”
This was the last I heard. Yet one thing was evident to me from their conversation. My father had some wild plan of effecting an entrance into society through me. He thought that after he was once recognized he might get sufficient influence to gain a title and found a family. I also might marry a lord. He thus dreamed of being Lord Brandon, and one of the great nobles of the land.
Amidst my sadness I almost smiled at this vain dream; but yet John’s words affected me strongly—“You’ve played such good little games in your life.” Well I knew with whom they were played. One was with Despard, the other with Brandon.
This then was the reason why he had sent for me from China. The knowledge of his purpose made my life neither brighter nor darker. I still lived on as before.
During these months Mrs. Compton’s tender devotion to me never ceased. I respected her, and forbore to excite that painful fear to which she was subject. Once or twice I forgot myself and began speaking to her about her strange position here. She stopped me with her look of alarm.
“Are you not afraid to be kind to me?” I asked.
She looked at me piteously.
“You are the only one that is kind to me,” I continued. “How have you the courage?”