“I believe it is the only thing to do,” she said to herself. “She may be able to ask him what I cannot and will not ask for myself,” for by this time Philippa had learnt something of the relations existing between Michael Gresham and the housekeeper, though the latter had been scrupulously careful to avoid anything approaching to gossip about the young man whom she was still so devoted to.
Without giving herself time to reconsider what she was about to do, Philippa, pale with suppressed nervousness, hurried down-stairs in hopes of catching Mrs Shepton on her entrance to the house. In this she succeeded, for in answer to her tap at the door of the housekeeper’s room, its owner’s voice replied, “Come in.”
“Are you alone?” said Philippa, glancing round, “and can you spare me a few minutes? Mrs Shepton, I am in such trouble, and I promised you to ask your advice, if need arose.”
The housekeeper glanced at her anxiously. The girl had been greatly in her thoughts the last few days, though she had not seen much of her, for it had seemed to her that she was looking ill and careworn, unless, indeed, her own eyes had been sharpened by the younger Mr Gresham’s communications.
“Sit down, my dear,” she said, kindly.
Philippa obeyed her at once. Indeed, now that she was within the shelter of the kind woman’s own little sanctum, and felt the protection of her motherly tone and words, a reaction, not unnaturally, from the constraint she had been putting upon herself, set in. She trembled so that she could scarcely have stood a moment longer, and when she began to speak, her voice entirely failed her and she burst into tears.
Mrs Shepton felt positively alarmed, but she spoke calmly.
“Try to be composed, my dear,” she said, still more kindly than before, “otherwise you will not be able to tell me what is wrong. Will you have a glass of water? I have some here which is as cold as ice.”
The girl made a little sign in the affirmative, and when she had drunk the water, she was able to some extent to check her sobs.
“Now tell me,” said Mrs Shepton, “tell me all about it. Have you had bad news? No, it can’t be that, for I have seen you twice since the letters came, and you did not seem upset. Is Mrs Marmaduke vexed with you for anything? You must not take it so to heart, if it is that; I am sure she is a kind—”