The Immortal Moment Part 9

"Do you know him?" The ball slipped from Miss Keating's nervous fingers and the wool was tangled worse than ever.

"No, no; but I could tell that you were----" she hesitated. "It was at Ilkley that I met you. It's coming back to me. You were not then with Mrs. Tailleur, I think? You were with an invalid lady?"

"Yes; I was until I broke down."

"May I ask if you knew Mrs. Tailleur before you came to her?"

"No. I knew nothing of her. I know nothing now."

"Oh," said the old lady. It was as if she had said: that settles it.

The wool was disentangled. It was winding them nearer and nearer.

"Have you been with her long?"

"Not more than three months."

There were only five inches of wool between them now. "Do you mind telling me where you picked her up?"

Miss Keating remembered with compunction that it was Kitty who had picked _her_ up. Picked her up, as it were, in her arms, and carried her away from the dreadful northern Hydropathic where she had dropped, forlorn and exhausted, in the trail of her opulent invalid.

"It was at Matlock, afterward. Why?"

"Because, my dear--you must forgive me, but I could not help hearing what that young lady said. She was so very--so very unrestrained."

"Very ill-bred, I should say."

"Well, I should not have said that. You couldn't mistake the Lucys for anything but gentlepeople. Evidently I was meant to hear. I've no doubt she thinks us all very unkind."

"Unkind? Why?"

"Because we have--have not exactly taken to Mrs. Tailleur; if you'll forgive my saying so."

Miss Keating's smile forgave her. "People do not always take to her. She is more a favourite, I think, with men." She gave the ball into the old lady's hands.

The old lady coughed slightly. "Thank you, my dear. I dare say _you_ have thought it strange. We are such a friendly little community here; and if Mrs. Tailleur had been at all possible----"

"I believe," said Miss Keating, "she is very well connected. Lord Matcham is a most intimate friend of hers."

"That doesn't speak very well for Lord Matcham, I'm afraid."

"I wish," said Miss Keating, "you would be frank with me."

"I should like to be, my dear."

"Then, please--if there's anything you think I should be told--tell me."

"I think you ought to be told that we all are wondering a little at your being seen with Mrs. Tailleur. You are too nice, if I may say so, and she is--well, not the sort of person you should be going about with."

Miss Keating's mouth opened slightly.

"Do you know anything about her?"

"I know less than you do. I'm only going by what Colonel Hankin says."

"Colonel Hankin?"

"Mrs. Hankin, I should say; of course I couldn't speak about Mrs.

Tailleur to _him_."

"Has he ever met her?"

"Met her? In society? My dear!--he has never met her anywhere."

"Then would he--would he really know?"

"It isn't only the Colonel. All the men in the hotel say the same thing.

You can see how they stare at her."

"Oh, those men!"

"You may depend upon it, they know more than we do."

"How can they? How--how do they tell?"

"I suppose they see something."

Miss Keating saw it, too. She shuddered involuntarily. Her knees shook under her. She sat down.

"I'm sure I don't know what it is," said the old lady.

"Nor I," said Miss Keating faintly.

"They say you've only got to look at her----"

A dull flush spread over Miss Keating's face. She was breathing hard.

Her mouth opened to speak; a thick sigh came through it, but no words.

"I've looked," said the old lady, "and I can't see anything about her different from other people. She dresses so quietly; but I'm told they often do. They're very careful that we shouldn't know them."

"They? Oh, you don't mean that Mrs. Tailleur--is----"

"I'm only going by what I'm told. Mind you, I get it all from Mrs.

Hankin."

Miss Keating, who had been leaning forward, sat suddenly bolt upright.

Her whole body was shaking now. Her voice was low but violent.