“My history is not romantic,” I said bitterly; “it is dull and sordid. You are very good to me, dear Mrs. Brane.” I was close to tears. “I wish I could do more for you.”
“More! Why, child, if it wasn't for you, I'd run away from 'The Pines' and never come back. _No_ inducement, no consideration of any kind would keep me in this place.”
She certainly spoke as though she had in mind some very weighty inducement and consideration.
“Why do you stay, Mrs. Brane.” I asked impulsively. “At least, why don't you go away for a change? It would do you so much good, and it would be wonderful for Robbie. Why, Mrs. Brane, you have n't left this place for a day, have you, since your husband died?”
“No, dear,” said the little lady sorrowfully, “hardly for an hour. It's my prison.” She looked about the room again, and added as though she were talking to herself, “I don't dare to leave it.”
She smiled deprecatingly. “That was a silly word to use, was n't it?” Again that tormented little sigh. “You see, I'm a silly little person. I'm not fit to carry the weight of other people's secrets.”
Again I repeated like some brainless parrot, “Secrets?”
“Of course there are secrets, child,” she said impatiently. “Every one has secrets, their own or other people's. You have secrets, without doubt?”
I had. She had successfully silenced me. After that we worked steadily, and there was no further attempt at confidence.
Nevertheless, as I lay on my bed trying to read and waiting for Mary's summons, I decided that I would make a strong effort to get Mrs. Brane and Robbie out of the house. I had come to the conclusion that my employer was the victim of a mild sort of mania, one symptom of which was a fear of leaving her home. I thought I would consult with Dr. Haverstock and get him to order Robbie and Robbie's mother a change of air. It might cure the little fellow of his nervous terrors. How I wish I had thought of this plan a few days sooner! What dreadful reason I have for regretting my delay!
Mary was a long time in coming. I must have fallen asleep, for a while later, I became aware that I had slipped down on my pillows and that my book had fallen to the floor. I got up, feeling rather startled, and looked at my clock. It was already half-past twelve, and Mary had not called me. I went to my door and found that it was locked. I remembered that it had been my alternate plan for Mary to lock me in, and I supposed that she had forgotten that our final decision was in favor of the other scheme, or she had preferred to watch over Robbie alone. I was a little hurt, but I acquiesced in my imprisonment and went back to bed. I put out the light, and was very soon asleep again.