“Do you,” she replied. “You have not always done so.”
“Let bygones be bygones, Clara; I promised you the money, and I have paid you now, and you cannot complain.”
“It is the first time you ever recollected what you owed me,” said the governess, bitterly.
“Don’t say that, Clara; let us be good friends. Our compact is now finished, and we need not rake up the past. If there is anything more I can do for you, Clara, let me know; and if it’s in my power, I’ll do it,” said Markworth, magnanimously, for he thought the woman had still a lingering regard for him.
“I don’t want anything from you, Allynne Markworth,” she said, angrily stamping her foot; “and I don’t wish to see you again. You’ve been the curse of my life! But all’s not over yet between us!” she muttered, significantly, as she turned on her heel and walked back towards the house.
Markworth looked after her a moment, and then resumed his way down to the railway station, en route for London. He had a good deal to do before starting for Havre, and wanted to get there before Tom or anyone else went over after Susan.
“That’s the way with them all!” he said, to himself, as he walked away rapidly in quick strides. “They get all they can, and then wash their hands of you!”
But he made a great mistake. Miss Kingscott had not by any means washed her hands of Markworth yet. She had gathered a good deal from the conversation between Mr Trump and the dowager on the previous day, to which she had listened attentively through the keyhole of the next room, and she knew that she could not only upset Markworth’s plans for obtaining Susan’s inheritance, but perhaps, also, get him imprisoned, if she exposed her share in the affair.
This she intended to do, but not until the last moment, just when she should think fit; and at present she would remain at The Poplars, and go on as if she knew nothing of the great event. She might captivate Tom in the meantime, she thought; and, at all events, she as yet had the doctor to fall back upon. Aesculapius had been twice as devoted to her since she displayed so much energy in trying to get Susan back. He had muttered to himself, over and over again, as he rode up to The Poplars, in his daily visits to Tom, “She is a dooced fine girl; and a clever girl, too, by Gad!” and, no doubt, would have repeated that declaration of his which the campaigner’s call had nipped in the bud, if the opportunity had only favoured him. But it had not, for the dowager seemed adverse to letting the doctor remain a moment alone with the governess.
When Markworth had gone away, the council between Mrs Hartshorne, and Tom, and the lawyer, was resumed; Tom said that he would go the next day if he was able and fetch back Susan. As for the money matters, the old lady declared she would spare no expense to “cheat that scoundrel” out of his plunder; and Mr Trump was authorised to go to every end to defeat the suit of Markworth versus Hartshorne, which the schemer had stated would be at once commenced, the old lady refusing to surrender her daughter’s fortune unless she were compelled to do so. And she “wouldn’t even do it then,” she declared.