Notwithstanding Part 41

"Fly, my dear, fly," said Aunt Harriet, "catch Hodgkins and tell her we are not at home. I'm not equal to seeing anyone till four o'clock. I should have thought all the neighbourhood must have realized that by now. Save me, Annette."

Annette hurried into the house, and then through a side window suddenly caught sight of Mrs. Stoddart's long grim face under a parasol, and ran out to her and dragged her out of the carriage.

"I thought you had gone," she said, holding her tightly by her mantilla, as if Mrs. Stoddart might elude her even now. The elder woman looked at Annette's drawn face and thrust out her under lip. She had feared there would be trouble when Annette told Roger of her past, and had asked Mr.

Stirling to let her stay on at Noyes a few days longer. As she sat by Annette in the parlour at Red Riff she saw that trouble had indeed come.

"You have told your Roger," she said laconically, looking at the girl with anger and respect. "I don't need to ask how he has taken it."

Annette recounted what had happened, and once again Mrs. Stoddart experienced a shock. She had come prepared to hear that Roger had withdrawn the light of his countenance from Annette, and to offer stern consolation. But the complication caused by Annette having informed Roger of the existence of the will, and the fact that she had witnessed it, overwhelmed her.

A swift spasm pa.s.sed over her face.

"This is the first I've heard of you witnessing it," she said, sitting very bolt upright on the sofa.

Annette owned she had entirely forgotten that she had done so until Roger had told her no will was forthcoming.

"Then it all came back to me," she said.

"It's not to be wondered at that you did not remember, considering you became unconscious with brain fever a few hours later," said Mrs.

Stoddart in a perfectly level voice. And then, without any warning, she began to cry.

Annette gazed at her thunderstruck. She had never seen her cry before.

What that able woman did, she did thoroughly.

"I thought I had seen to everything," she said presently, her voice shaking with anger, "taken every precaution, stopped up every hole where discovery could leak out, and fortune favoured you. My only fear was that d.i.c.k's valet, who was at the funeral, might recognize you. But he didn't."

"I told you he did not see me at the station that day I went with d.i.c.k."

"I know you did, but I thought he might have seen you, all the same. But he evidently didn't, or he would have mentioned it to the family at once. And now--now all my trouble and cleverness and planning for you are thrown away, are made absolutely useless by yourself, Annette: because of your suicidal simpleness in witnessing that accursed will.

It's enough to make a saint swear."

Mrs. Stoddart wiped her eyes, and shook her fist in the air.

"Providence never does play fair," she said. "I've been outwitted, beaten, but it wasn't cricket. I keep my self-respect. The question remains, What is to be done?"

"I shall wait till Roger comes back before I do anything."

"I take for granted that Roger Manvers and his cousin Janey will never say a word against you?--that they will never 'tell,' as the children say."

"I am sure they never will."

"And much good that will do you when your signature is fixed to d.i.c.k's will! That fact must become known, and your position at Fontainebleau is bound to leak out. Roger can't prove the will without giving you away.

Do you understand that?"

"I had not thought of it."

"Then every man, woman, and child at Riff, including your aunts, will know about you."

"Yes,"--a very faint "Yes," through white lips.

"And they will all, with one consent, especially your aunts, believe the worst."

"I am afraid they will."

There was a long silence.

"You _can't_ remain here, Annette."

"You said before at Fontainebleau that I could not remain, but I did."

Mrs. Stoddart recognized, not for the first time, behind Annette's mildness an obstinacy before which she was powerless.

As usual, she tried another tack.

"For the sake of your aunts you ought to leave at once, and you ought to persuade them to go with you, before the first breath of scandal reaches Riff."

"Yes, we must all go. Of course we can't go on living here, but I would rather see Roger first. Roger is good, and he is so kind. He will understand about the aunts, and give me a few days to make it as easy to them as it can be made, poor dears."

"You ought to prepare their minds for leaving Riff. I should not think that would be difficult, for they lamented to me that they were buried here, and only remained on your account."

"Yes, they always say that. I will tell them I don't like it, and as they don't like it either, it would be best if we went away."

"You are wishing that nothing had been kept from them in the first instance?" said Mrs. Stoddart, deeply wounded, though she kept an inflexible face.

"Yes," said Annette; "and yet I have always been thankful in a way they did not know. I have felt the last few days as if the only thing I really could not bear was telling the aunts. But this will be even worse--I mean that you say everybody will know. It will wound them in their pride, and upset them dreadfully. And they are fond of me now, which will make it worse for them if it is publicly known. They might have got over it if only Roger and Janey knew. But they will never forgive me putting them to public shame."

"Come and live with me," said Mrs. Stoddart fiercely. "I love you, Annette." And in her heart she thought that if her precious only son, her adored Mark, did fall in love with Annette he could not do better.

"Come and live with me."

"I will gladly come and live with you for a time later on."

"Come now."

"Not yet."

"It's no use stopping," she said, taking the girl by the shoulders.

"What's the good? Your Roger won't marry you, my poor child."

"No," said Annette firmly, though her lips had blanched. "I know he will not. But--I ran away before when some one would not marry me, and it did not make things any better--only much, much worse. My mind is made up. I will stay this time."

CHAPTER XLI

"Il ne suffit pas d'etre logique en ce monde; il faut savoir vivre avec ceux qui ne le sont pas."--VALTOUR.