She lost her shyness and timidity as she spoke of him. It was really beautiful to see. I felt as I ran upstairs, eager to confide to Moore the details of the wonderful visit, that it was not only Mr Caryll Grey who was “so very, very good,” but that I had indeed been entertaining angels!
Moore was of course intensely interested and excited by my story. I think it deepened, perhaps more even than the punishment he had brought on himself, the lesson he had received. For I heard a murmur as I concluded, in which the words, “caddish thing to do,” were audible enough.
The doctor made his appearance shortly afterwards. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, which he was too discreet to express otherwise, when I related to him the visit from the Grim House, and by no means “pooh-poohed” the use of the medicament the kind woman had brought.
“I remember it,” he said. “And in more than one case of sprain I have known it have a wonderfully good effect. Try it by all means, Miss Fitzmaurice, now that the inflammation has begun to subside; it is just the sort of thing we want, and you may safely continue its use, diluted with water of course, till you have emptied the bottle.”
The next two or three days passed quietly, even monotonously. Moore was very patient, and I think I did my best to help him to be so. It was a relief when my home letter was written, and a still greater one when an answer to it had been received. I meant to tell mother the whole circumstances when I saw her again, by no means exonerating myself where I felt I had been to blame, but to enter into any explanation in a letter would have been out of the question. Besides—and as I arrived at this point in my cogitations a new idea struck me—had I any right to retail what Isabel had told me in confidence, without her permission, and would not the applying for this, risk the betrayal to her of my agreement with Mr Grey?
“Oh dear,” I thought to myself, “what a labyrinth a little indiscretion may involve one in. I see now that I was not justified in telling Moore about Grimsthorpe. It was not faithful to Isabel, but with his being here on the spot and seeing the place for himself, it never struck me before in this light. No doubt he would have heard some gossip about it, but probably not enough to cause much curiosity. I shall really be very glad when we are both safely back at home again, and the whole thing forgotten, so far as ever can be. Moore has had his lesson anyway; I am certain he would never intrude on the Greys again, even if he were here for months. How very discreet those old ladies were! I suppose they have learnt it, poor things.” For that there was a secret, and a very sad one, my recent experiences had in no way led me to doubt. “By the way,” I went on in my own mind, “I wonder how they knew our name?” Then I recalled the little colloquy at the hall-door. “Of course,” I reflected, “they must have asked for the young lady who was staying here, and naturally the footman would speak of me as ‘Miss Fitzmaurice’?” and later I discovered, by a little judicious inquiry through my own maid, that this had in fact been the case. Nor did I make the inquiry solely through curiosity. I had noticed the almost imperceptible hesitation in Miss Jessie’s manner as she addressed me by name, and I could not forget—it was no use pretending to myself that I should ever do so—the mention of “Ernest Fitzmaurice” which I had overheard. “Something to do specially with Jessie,” I had gathered.
“Poor little woman! What may she not have suffered in life, and how brave she seems!” were my last waking thoughts that night.