His Excellency's English Governess

by Sydney C. Grier

“She never shall,” said M. Karalampi, and he departed with his prize. Fortune had favoured him beyond his hopes, and he saw himself, in imagination, restored to his former place in Azim Bey’s esteem, and able to manipulate his actions in the interest of his other employers. As for Azim Bey himself, he felt quite satisfied with the arrangement he had made, and returned to his governess with a light heart and an unclowded brow.

Cecil’s visits to the Residency that autumn were almost confined to the Sundays. She explained to Lady Haigh that she had arranged a special course of study with her pupil, which must not on any account be interrupted, after the desultory way in which the summer had been spent, and she adhered to this plan with the utmost rigour, never acknowledging, even to herself, that the Residency seemed in some way empty and desolate just now. Sunday by Sunday she said to herself, hopefully, “Perhaps he came back last night,” but the weeks passed on, and he did not come, and Cecil cried herself to sleep at nights, and assured herself all the time that she did not love him, and that it was only because she was disappointed. Thus the days went by quietly enough until Christmas week approached. Still Charlie had not returned, although his letters to Lady Haigh announced that he had started upon the homeward journey. They were rather despondent in their tone, for his medical inquiries had occupied a longer time than he had calculated, but they all breathed a spirit of unconquerable determination to be back by the day before Christmas Eve, or die. Even if he had to tramp from Mohammerah to Baghdad, he would do it. But he reckoned without Azim Bey.

Cecil was to spend Christmas at the Residency. From the morning of Christmas Eve to the evening of Christmas Day she was to have her time absolutely to herself, and on Christmas Eve Denarien Bey and other officials were to bring the new agreement and present it for her signature. Azim Bey watched her depart without misgivings. His plans were laid securely, and if they did not come to a satisfactory conclusion, M. Karalampi would pay the penalty. Cecil nodded and kissed her hand to him as she started on her ride to the Residency, and he noticed that her white sheet was fastened with the elaborately wrought and jewelled brooch he had presented to her that morning, in pursuance of what he understood was the correct English custom. He was pleased with the honour shown to his gift, and accepted it as a good omen, and therefore he waved his hand gaily to Cecil, and called out that he would not torment old Ayesha, his nurse, more than he could possibly help while she was away.

Arrived at the Residency, Cecil found Lady Haigh in an extremely perturbed state of mind. Charlie had not returned, and no notice of his approach had been received; moreover, there were rumours of troubles between the Hajar and the Fazz tribes in the very district through which he had to pass. In the course of a few hours Denarien Bey would bring the agreement to be signed, and if Charlie had not returned by that time, she would be obliged to speak to Cecil on his behalf, a prospect which filled her with nervous dread. To add to her perplexities, she had all the Christmas decorations on her hands, as well as the preparations for the Christmas Day festivities, in which she was handicapped by an undying feud which existed between such of the servants as were Hindus on one side, and Agoop Aga, the major-domo, and the natives of the country, on the other. With a vague idea of putting off the evil day, she accepted Cecil’s offer to see to the decorations and the arrangement of the menu for the morrow’s dinner-party, and departed to look to the ways of her household. But this delay was of no avail, for lunch-time arrived, and no Charlie. Denarien Bey was coming at three o’clock, and with beating heart poor Lady Haigh perceived that she must speak to Cecil. There was no time to lose, and after lunch she called the girl into her boudoir and prepared to make the attempt. She knew that she could not plead Charlie’s cause with anything approaching the fervour he himself would have used; nay, she had an uneasy consciousness that if Cecil accepted him she would consider her an arrant fool for giving up her present position for his sake. But she was fond of Charlie, and sympathised with him on account of his patient waiting, and she felt herself bound by her promise to do the best she could for him.

“Cecil, my dear,” she said, when she had got Cecil settled at last, after several vain attempts to reason her into a properly serious state of mind, “Denarien Bey will come with the agreement very soon.”

“Yes?” said Cecil, springing up from her chair and adjusting the striped scarf which draped a portrait on the wall. “But don’t let us talk of business now, Lady Haigh. These two days are my holidays, you know, and I want to enjoy them. This is a new photograph of Sir Dugald, isn’t it?”

“Oh, my dear child,” entreated Lady Haigh, “do be serious. I have something so very important to say to you. I don’t know how to say it, but I promised Charlie, and I wish I hadn’t. Do listen to me quietly.”

Cecil dropped into a chair, not that in which she had been sitting before, but a low one in the shade of the curtain, and composed herself to listen, for Lady Haigh’s voice sounded as though tears were not far off.

“Poor Charlie has not come back in time,” went on the elder lady, sadly, “and he was so very anxious to speak to you himself. But I must do it, or you will sign the agreement without knowing. He has been in love with you a long time, Cecil, ever since he has known you, in fact, and he wanted to ask you to marry him on the way up the river, but I wouldn’t let him. I promised him that if he would let you alone for the first two years, to give you a fair chance of seeing how you could get on, he should speak to you before you signed the new agreement. Well, he isn’t here, so I must speak instead. He is very much in love with you, my dear, though I should think you know that as well as I do, and if you don’t, Azim Bey does. He has some money of his own, and Sir Dugald feels now that he can conscientiously put in a good word for him with the Indian Government if there is any question of another appointment, and he is a dear fellow. There! I know I am not putting things properly, but I don’t know how to manage it. He can’t bear to think of your slaving, as he calls it, with Azim Bey all day; he wants you to be raised above the necessity of working for your family. He need not stay out here, you know, if it were not that he loves the East so much, he has a good property at home,—and he is a generous fellow. I am sure I may say that your little brothers would not suffer from the change. I might talk to you about a good position, and all that sort of thing, but I don’t believe it would affect you. All I can say is, Cecil, don’t let my blundering way of speaking for him prejudice you against the poor fellow, for he really is head over ears in love with you. Sometimes I think you don’t appreciate him properly, but remember, he has waited patiently for two whole years, and only refrained from speaking out of pure consideration for you, lest you should be compromised in your new position. You have never shown him any special encouragement, always laughing at him and teasing him as you do, but he has never wavered, so if you can find it in your heart to say yes, do be kind to the poor boy.”

There was a few minutes’ silence, while the clock ticked heavily. Lady Haigh glanced nervously at Cecil, sitting in the deep orange shade of the curtain, but could read nothing from her face. At last the girl spoke, slowly and with some hesitation.