All at Knowl was indicative of the break-up that was so near
at hand. Doctor Bryerly arrived according to promise. He was
in a whirl of business all the time. He and Mr. Danvers conferred
about the management of the estate. It was agreed that
the grounds and gardens should be let, but not the house, of
which Mrs. Rusk was to take the care. The gamekeeper remained
in office, and some out-door servants. But the rest were
to go, except Mary Quince, who was to accompany me to Bartram-Haugh
as my maid.
'Don't part with Quince,' said Lady Knollys, peremptorily
'they'll want you, but don't.'
She kept harping on this point, and recurred to it half a
dozen times every day.
'They'll say, you know, that she is not fit for a lady's maid, as she certainly is not, if it in the least signified in such a wilderness as Bartram-Haugh; but she is attached, trustworthy, and honest; and those are qualities valuable everywhere, especially in a solitude. Don't allow them to get you a wicked young French milliner in her stead.'
Sometimes she said things that jarred unpleasantly on my
nerves, and left an undefined sense of danger. Such as:—
'I know she's true to you, and a good creature; but is she
shrewd enough?'
Or, with an anxious look:—
'I hope Mary Quince is not easily frightened.'
Or, suddenly:—
'Can Mary Quince write, in case you were ill?'
Or,
'Can she take a message exactly?'
Or,
'Is she a person of any enterprise and resource, and cool in
an emergency?'
Now, these questions did not come all in a string, as I write
them down here, but at long intervals, and were followed
quickly by ordinary talk; but they generally escaped from my
companion after silence and gloomy thought; and though I
could extract nothing more defined than these questions, yet
they seemed to me to point at some possible danger contemplated
in my good cousin's dismal ruminations.
Another topic that occupied my cousin's mind a good deal
was obviously the larceny of my pearl cross. She made a note of
the description furnished by the recollection, respectively, of
Mary Quince, Mrs. Rusk, and myself. I had fancied her little
vision of the police was no more than the result of a momentary
impulse; but really, to judge by her methodical examinations of us, I should have fancied that she had taken it up in downright earnest.
Having learned that my departure from Knowl was to be
so very soon, she resolved not to leave me before the day of my
journey to Bartram-Haugh; and as day after day passed by, and the hour of our leave-taking approached, she became more and more kind and affectionate. A feverish and sorrowful interval it was to me.
Of Doctor Bryerly, though staying in the house, we saw almost
nothing, except for an hour or so at tea-time. He breakfasted
very early, and dined solitarily, and at uncertain hours, as business permitted.
The second evening of his visit, Cousin Monica took occasion
to introduce the subject of his visit to Bartram-Haugh.
'You saw him, of course?' said Lady Knollys.
'Yes, he saw me; he was not well. On hearing who I was, he asked me to go to his room, where he sat in a silk dressing-gown and slippers.'
'About business principally,' said Cousin Monica, laconically.
'That was despatched in very few words; for he was quite
resolved, and placed his refusal upon grounds which it was
difficult to dispute. But difficult or no, mind you, he intimated
that he would hear nothing more on the subject—so that was
closed.'
'Well; and what is his religion now?' inquired she, irreverently.