“Pray do not trouble yourself about me,” I broke in. “I have no faith in your promises—or in you!”
Here Lady Hildegarde rose very slowly to her feet, and vainly endeavored to overawe me by her look, and cover indignation with dignity.
“You forget yourself, Miss Hayes,” she said in a freezing tone.
“If you will be so good as to exert yourself so far as to forget _me_, I shall be extremely glad.”
And then I held the door wide open, and, though my knees were shaking under me, I bowed her out. Turned out Lady Hildegarde! Oh, what a tale for the town! Miss Skuce, who had shrunk up into a corner, enjoyed the scene prodigiously, I am certain, though she felt it her duty to remonstrate most strongly with me.
“I apologize for all I said, for I have now her ladyship’s own words for her obligations to your stepmother, and I apologize to _her_ memory. She was a dear, sweet, ladylike creature! She would never have reproached Lady Hildegarde, nor flown at her like you. Oh, I shall never forget the look of you! Nor how you dashed her offer in her face, and drove her out of the room. You should have pocketed your pride and taken her reference—a titled reference. You forget that you should order yourself lowly and reverently to all your betters.”
“Do you call that mean, selfish, ungrateful woman my better?”
“Of course I do!” with emphasis. “There is no question of _that_! Fancy comparing yourself to the daughter of a duke! I think you behaved in a most vulgar, insulting, outrageous manner. You should——”
“Have played the hypocrite?” I suggested sarcastically.
“Well, well, I’ve no time to argue, for I must be going; but, mark my words, your high temper will bring you very low yet, as sure as my name is Sophia Ann Skuce.” Exit.
“So you’ll be going this day week?” remarked Mrs. Gabb, as she bustled in with the lamp. “And I’m sure I can’t wonder; it’s lonely-like for you being here in this room by yourself, and London is where most people goes to—it sort of sucks ’em in.”
“Yes; people who have to earn their bread have a better chance of doing so in London.”
“You’ll go in for governessing, I suppose?”
“No. I’m afraid I am not sufficiently accomplished.”
“Laws! I should have thought you was. But it’s a hard life, and poor pay, and often bad usage. And you do sing beautiful. Your voice sort of gives me a lump in my throat, and many’s the night Gabb and I, and sometimes a friend or two, have stood on the stairs, and listened to you a-playing and singing to that guitar. I’m sure you’d take splendidly at one of the music ’alls, if you could only dance a bit! Stop; what’s that, now? There’s a knock at the door, and the girl’s out.” And she rushed down-stairs, and in a very few seconds I was astonished to hear a manly foot in the passage, and she ushered in “Mr. Somers.”