“Very well, darling,” replied Marion, soothingly; “we will talk about some nice things. Only tell me, dear Sybil, does any one know? Any one besides Emilie?”
“Florence knows part,” said the child; “Emilie told her I was very naughty, and Florence wasn’t kind at all. She scolded me very much, and said if I told that Emilie didn’t stay with me, she would get me sent away to school. She said it was very unkind of me to want Emilie to sit all the evening in my room. But I think Emilie didn’t tell it her all, or she would not have scolded me so. Emilie does tell little stories, Miss Freer, and I don’t like her, but Florence likes her because she does a great deal of work for her, and then she says I give her so much trouble, she has no time to do the things that Grandmamma wants done. And it isn’t true, Miss Freer,” said Sybil, emphatically, clenching her little hands in indignation.
“Well, dear, it should make you not mind so much what Emilie says, if she is so careless in her way of speaking. If your secret is about something Emilie has told, I would try not to think any more about it.”
“Yes, but that is true,” repeated Sybil, relapsing into her awe-struck whisper; “I know that is true, because of what I saw, Miss Freer.”
She shuddered as she spoke, and Marion, fearful of uselessly exciting her—as it was evident she must not at present insist upon the child’s full confidence—hastened to change the subject. After some efforts, she succeeded in interesting and amusing her little charge, who by the end of the morning looked brighter and happier. Still the young governess felt very anxious and uneasy when the hour came to leave her pupils for the day. Sybil looked ready to burst into tears again, but Marion whispered to her that to-morrow she would arrange to stay an hour later, to finish a delightful story that had been broken in the middle; which promise brought back a smile to the woe-begone little face.
“What can I do?” thought Marion. “I can’t bear to leave things as they are, and yet any interference on my part would probably do no good, and only cause me to be set down as presumptuous and officious. It might even lead to my being dismissed, and then how miserable and forlorn Sybil would be! It is evident that wicked Emilie is terrifying the poor child to prevent her complaining of her. And Miss Vyse supporting such conduct! Though I agree with Sybil that Emilie must have told the story in her own way. Miss Vyse would not be so utterly heartless, if she knew what the child is actually suffering. Though it is shameful of her to have accepted Emilie’s statement as to Sybil’s naughtiness in that careless way.”
So Marion thought to herself. But she could see nothing likely to do such good in her power. All her cogitations ended in wishing Sir Ralph were back again. But she resolved in the meantime to watch Sybil closely, and if no improvement became manifest, to brave all, rather than conceal the hidden mischief she now had proof was at work. Emilie, the children’s maid, she had seen little of, but the girl’s manner and appearance she disliked. Lady Severn unfortunately had an exceedingly high opinion of her; and Miss Vyse, as Sybil had said, was sure to take her part, for the reasons the child had been quick enough to discover.
The next day Sybil seemed better again, and told Marion she had had “a very nice sleep all night.” But the day after the child was evidently very ill. There were black circles round her eyes, telling of sleepless hours and nervous suffering. The pain in her head was so bad, she said, she could not see the words in her lesson-book when she tried to read; and at last Marion gave up the attempt as useless. Sybil would not speak much, and was evidently in terror of Marion’s renewing the subject of her secret alarms. So, after trying to soothe her by reading aloud some of the little girl’s favourite fairy tales, in which however she seemed hardly able to take any interest, the young governess was obliged to leave her for the day. Lotty did not seem much impressed by her sister's suffering, saying carelessly:
“Oh! Sybil’s always sulky when she has the least bit of a headache.”
When lesson hours were over, Marion asked to see Lady Severn, intending to tell her of Sybil’s evident illness. Considerably to her annoyance, Lady Severn sent to ask her to see her in the drawing-room, in consequence of which Miss Vyse was of course present at the interview, which effectually dispelled Marion’s faint hopes of being able to do poor Sybil any real good by what she might say to her grand-mother.