“Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won’t be back by six.”
“Yes, I’ll go out with you.”
She turned and walked very gravely out of the room.
“I’d rather she cried and screamed; I’d rather she rushed at me and tried to hurt me; I’d rather she did anything than take it like that,” thought the governess.
Sibyl went straight into the nursery.
“Nursie,” she said, “my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he did not wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back in a few months. A few months is like for ever, isn’t it, nursie? I am going out with Miss Winstead for a walk.”
“Oh, my darling,” said nursie, “this has hurt you horribly.”
“Don’t,” said Sibyl, “don’t be sympathisy.” She pushed nurse’s detaining hand away.
“It’s the little shots that tell,” she repeated. “I wouldn’t have felt anything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean, but I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to let anybody think that I care anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please, nurse.”
She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two went downstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her, and asked her one question.