What little Jessie told she did not know, nor how she told it, nor exactly what she said; but Miss Peacock listened calmly. After a time, going close to the little speaker, she held her hand. When this happened Jessie felt that she could tell better than ever. Courage came into her; she became certain that Miss Peacock was right. She had always adored Lavinia Peacock; now she knew that harshness in the real sense of the word could never come from those kind lips, nor proceed from that true and generous heart. At last Jessie stopped.
"I did wrong," said Miss Peacock when all was finished. "I love you, Jessie; you are the greatest comfort I have, but a mistress in my position ought to know everything. In the future, dear, we will have just as happy a time—nay, a happier time—at Penwerne Manor, but we can never allow things to come to such a pass that an innocent girl can be willfully tortured by her companions."
"And what about to-night?" said Jessie.
"At what hour is the feast generally held?"
"They go to bed, you know, Lavinia, apparently just as usual, and then they slip away from their rooms. Oh, you needn't think, dear, that I go to bed on those nights. Not I! I wait about, just hovering near, to be certain that there is no real mischief; and when they are snug in their beds, then I retire."
"You, dear little, patient Jessie! You have tried to act the guardian angel; but the post is too much for you, dear. To-night I, Lavinia Peacock, will take your place."
"Oh, Lavinia, they would be so frightened—so terrified—if they saw you!"
"It is your impression that there is going to be a very special feast to-night?"
"I did think so, but I am not so sure now. Some provisions were got in, but for the last two or three days all has been quiet."