THE MAN IS FOUND.
NEELIE entered the room, carrying the tray with the tea, the dry toast, and the pat of butter which composed the invalid's invariable breakfast.
"What does this mean?" asked Mrs. Milroy, speaking and looking as she might have spoken and looked if the wrong servant had come into the room.
Neelie put the tray down on the bedside table. "I thought Ishould like to bring you up your breakfast, mamma, for once in a way," she replied, "and I asked Rachel to let me.""Come here," said Mrs. Milroy, "and wish me good-morning."Neelie obeyed. As she stooped to kiss her mother, Mrs. Milroy caught her by the arm, and turned her roughly to the light. There were plain signs of disturbance and distress in her daughter's face. A deadly thrill of terror ran through Mrs. Milroy on the instant. She suspected that the opening of the letter had been discovered by Miss Gwilt, and that the nurse was keeping out of the way in consequence.
"Let me go, mamma," said Neelie, shrinking under her mother's grasp. "You hurt me.""Tell me why you have brought up my breakfast this morning,"persisted Mrs. Milroy.
"I have told you, mamma."
"You have not! You have made an excuse; I see it in your face.
Come! what is it?"
Neelie's resolution ga ve way before her mother's. She looked aside uneasily at the things in the tray. "I have been vexed,"she said, with an effort; "and I didn't want to stop in the breakfast-room. I wanted to come up here, and to speak to you.""Vexed? Who has vexed you? What has happened? Has Miss Gwilt anything to do with it?"Neelie looked round again at her mother in sudden curiosity and alarm. "Mamma!" she said, "you read my thoughts. I declare you frighten me. It _was_ Miss Gwilt."Before Mrs. Milroy could say a word more on her side, the door opened and the nurse looked in.
"Have you got what you want?" she asked, as composedly as usual.
"Miss, there, insisted on taking your tray up this morning. Has she broken anything?""Go to the window. I want to speak to Rachel." said Mrs. Milroy.
As soon as her daughter's back was turned, she beckoned eagerly to the nurse. "Anything wrong?" she asked, in a whisper. "Do you think she suspects us?"The nurse turned away with her hard, sneering smile. "I told you it should be done," she said, "and it _has_ been done. She hasn't the ghost of a suspicion. I waited in the room; and I saw her take up the letter and open it."Mrs. Milroy drew a deep breath of relief. "Thank you," she said, loud enough for her daughter to hear. "I want nothing more."The nurse withdrew; and Neelie came back from the window. Mrs.
Milroy took her by the hand, and looked at her more attentively and more kindly than usual. Her daughter interested her that morning; for her daughter had something to say on the subject of Miss Gwilt.
"I used to think that you promised to be pretty, child," she said, cautiously resuming the interrupted conversation in the least direct way. "But you don't seem to be keeping your promise.
You look out of health and out of spirits. What is the matter with you?"If there had been any sympathy between mother and child, Neelie might have owned the truth. She might have said frankly: "I am looking ill, because my life is miserable to me. I am fond of Mr.
Armadale, and Mr. Armadale was once fond of me. We had one little disagreement, only one, in which I was to blame. I wanted to tell him so at the time, and I have wanted to tell him so ever since;and Miss Gwilt stands between us and prevents me. She has made us like strangers; she has altered him, and taken him away from me.
He doesn't look at me as he did; he doesn't speak to me as he did; he is never alone with me as he used to be; I can't say the words to him that I long to say; and I can't write to him, for it would look as if I wanted to get him back. It is all over between me and Mr. Armadale; and it is that woman's fault. There is ill-blood between Miss Gwilt and me the whole day long; and say what I may, and do what I may, she always gets the better of me, and always puts me in the wrong. Everything I saw at Thorpe Ambrose pleased me, everything I did at Thorpe Ambrose made me happy, before she came. Nothing pleases me, and nothing makes me happy now!" If Neelie had ever been accustomed to ask her mother's advice and to trust herself to her mother's love, she might have said such words as these. As. it was, the tears came into her eyes, and she hung her head in silence.
"Come!" said Mrs. Milroy, beginning to lose patience. "You have something to say to me about Miss Gwilt. What is it?"Neelie forced back her tears, and made an effort to answer.
"She aggravates me beyond endurance, mamma; I can't bear her; Ishall do something--" Neelie stopped, and stamped her foot angrily on the floor. "I shall throw something at her head if we go on much longer like this! I should have thrown something this morning if I hadn't left the room. Oh, do speak to papa about it!
Do find out some reason for sending her away! I'll go to school--I'll do anything in the world to get rid of Miss Gwilt!"To get rid of Miss Gwilt! At those words--at that echo from her daughter's lips of the one dominant desire kept secret in her own heart--Mrs. Milroy slowly raised herself in bed. What did it mean? Was the help she wanted coming from the very last of all quarters in which she could have thought of looking for it?
"Why do you want to get rid of Miss Gwilt?" she asked. "What have you got to complain of?""Nothing!" said Neelie. "That's the aggravation of it. Miss Gwilt won't let me have anything to complain of. She is perfectly detestable; she is driving me mad; and she is the pink of propriety all the time. I dare say it's wrong, but I don't care--I hate her!"Mrs. Milroy's eyes questioned her daughter's face as they had never questioned it yet. There was something under the surface, evidently--something which it might be of vital importance to her own purpose to discover--which had not risen into view. She went on probing her way deeper and deeper into Neelie's mind, with a warmer and warmer interest in Neelie's secret.