bout three weeks after my mistress’s visit something very terrible happened. I wish the history of that day would get itself told without the pain of telling it. My life has been a happy one, thank God! I have been “led by paths that I have not known,” but even now I never look back upon that day without a shudder. Oh, Reggie, my darling! But God was good to us, and the danger passed; still, it will be only in heaven that we may bear to look back on past perils without dimness of eyes and failing of heart!
I had never left Rolf alone with the children for a moment since Judson had told me of his mischievous propensities. I had grown fond of Rolf, and he was certainly very much improved; but I always felt he was not to be trusted, and either Hannah or I kept a strict guard over him. He was never permitted to enter the nursery in the morning; if we went out, he joined us, as a matter of course; but more than once when he begged for admittance I had refused it decidedly. Hannah was always busy in the morning, and the children slept for an hour, and if there were time I liked to take Joyce to her lessons, or to set her some baby-task of needlework, and Rolf always made her so rough.
On a rainy afternoon or in the evening she would be allowed to romp with Rolf, and they always played together on the beach. Rolf was more in his element out of doors. Judson had been very unwell for some days; she was a sickly sort of body, and was often ailing; but just then she had a threatening of quinsy, and seemed very feverish and suffering.
Her room was close to the nursery, and it was only sheer humanity for Hannah or myself to go in now and then and see what we could do for her. I had got it into my head that she was somewhat neglected by the other servants. I know Gay thought so, for she asked me to do what I could for her.
She had been ordered some linseed poultices that morning, and Mrs. Markham had come up to the nursery and asked me very civilly if I would apply them, as the upper housemaid was away, and Susan was very clumsy and helpless.
“I will stay with the children,” she said, quite graciously, for her; “and Hannah is here.” And as I knew Rolf was in the garden with his aunt, I could not find a loophole for excuse. I do not think I was wrong now, for how could I have refused such a request? But the fates were against me. That is a foolish and untrue expression, but I will let it stand.
The poultices were far from hot, and poor Judson, who seemed in great pain and very nervous about herself, begged me to go down to the housekeeper’s room and make some more. “It is no use Susan making them, and Mrs. Rumble is always so busy,” she whispered; “do go yourself, Miss Fenton, and then I shall be more sure of hot ones.”
The housekeeper’s room lay at the end of a long passage leading from the hall, shut in with red baize doors. These swing doors deadened sound, and that was why I did not hear Rolf come in from the garden and scamper upstairs.
The front-door bell rang immediately afterwards, and some visitors were asked into the drawing-room. I knew Gay was about the premises, and the idea never crossed my mind that Mrs. Markham would desert her post and leave the three children alone in the nursery; but I heard afterwards that this was the case. An old Indian friend had called, and Mrs. Markham had desired Rolf to summon Hannah from the night nursery; but Rolf, who was seldom obedient to his mother, had simply ignored the order.
I was some little time in the housekeeper’s room. The kettle did not boil, and I was compelled to wait. I was rather impatient at the delay. As I stood talking to Mrs. Rumble, I saw Mr. Hawtry ride up to the front door.