Mattie looked full at the girl, full and critically. Could there, after all, be truth in what she said? Mattie felt for the first time that it might be true, this so-called delusion of the unhappy girl.
“Well, miss,” she said, “if all you say is truth, then you are the most wronged creature on God’s earth.”
“It is true, Mattie. It is also true that Philip Barrimore came to this house to-day. If I had not fainted, I should have run to him. He would have known me! Why did he come? He must believe me dead.”
She broke down and wept.
“Look you here, miss,” said Mattie, growing suddenly alert, “that gentleman who came here has taken the red bungalow across the fields. You can see it from your window. I heard it from the boy that brings the milk from Pickett’s Farm. He pointed him out to me and said, ‘That bloke has taken the bungalow across there from the governor.’ Those were his words. If so, he will find you out, never fear. You take things quietly, and don’t anger the master. That’s my advice. And now get you to bed before Mrs. Le Breton comes.”
“Will you get into trouble, Mattie, for letting me out of the room?” Eweretta asked anxiously.
“I can take care of myself, miss, never fear,” said Mattie. “Hark! I hear Pierre and Faith coming in. Go at once!”
Pierre and Faith were “keeping company,” and had been for a walk together.
Eweretta went to her room with an elastic tread. She had hope for the first time in this most horrible year. She went to her window.
A light was burning in the bungalow.