“Is it an appointment, madam?”
“No, but I have reason to think that Madame Kominski will see me.”
“If you will step inside, I will ask her. What name shall I give?”
“Miss Dora Saxon.”
This change of name was the result of my deliberations while on my way here. It struck me as desirable, in Belle’s interests. In Belle’s! How strange it seemed that I should have to resort to trickery and subterfuge for the sake of one who, though so nearly related to me, was yet my mortal enemy! Yet so it was, for was not the happiness of those whom I loved best on earth involved in her immunity from punishment, if she were guilty; and in her protection from false accusation, if she were innocent? Ah! would to God I could have thought the latter! My course of conduct would then have been much easier for me.
“You wish to see me?” was the question addressed to me after a while, in such a musical voice that I glanced at the owner of it in pleased surprise, as I answered somewhat eagerly: “Yes, Madame Kominski. I have been told that you are seeking a companion, and would like to secure the post. I can give you good credentials.”
“And references to former employers?”
“I have never lived away from home before.”
“And why, may I ask, do you wish to come to me now?”
“My home associations have become painful. I was to have been married a month ago, but—”