"Oh--oh--I knew it--I knew. I always felt there was something about her."
"I"m sure, my dear, you didn"t _know_."
"I didn"t. I didn"t think it was that; I only thought she wasn"t nice. I thought she was fast, or she"d been divorced, or something--something terrible of that sort."
She still sat bolt upright, gazing open-eyed, open-mouthed at the terror. She was filled with a fierce excitement, a sort of exultation.
Then doubt came to her.
"But surely--surely the hotel people would know?"
"Hotel people never know anything that isn"t their interest to know. If there were any complaint, or if any of the guests were to leave on account of her, Mrs. Tailleur would have to go."
"And has there been any complaint?"
"I believe Mr. Soutar--the clergyman--has spoken to the manager."
"And the manager?"
"Well, you see, Mr. Soutar is always complaining. He complained about the food, and about his bedroom. He has the cheapest bedroom in the hotel."
Miss Keating was thinking hard. Her idea was that Kitty Tailleur should go, and that she should remain.
"Don"t you think if Colonel Hankin spoke to the manager----"
"He wouldn"t. He"s much too kind. Besides, the manager can"t do anything as long as she behaves herself. And now that the Lucys have taken her up----. And then, there"s you. Your being with her is her great protection. As she very well knew when she engaged you."
"I was engaged for _that_?"
"There can be very little doubt of it."
"Oh! then n.o.body thinks that I knew it? That I"m like her?"
"n.o.body _could_ think that of you."
"What am I to do? I"m so helpless, and I"ve no one to advise me. And it"s not as if we really knew anything."
"My dear, I think you should leave her."
"Of course I shall leave her. I can"t stay another day. But I don"t know how I ought to do it."
"Would you like to consult Colonel Hankin?"
"Oh no; I don"t think I could bear to speak about it to him."
"Well--and perhaps he would not like to be brought into it, either."
"Then what reason can I give her?"
"Of course you cannot tell her what you"ve heard."
Miss Keating was silent.
"Or if you do, you must please not give me as your informant."
"I will not do that."
"Nor--please--Colonel and Mrs. Hankin. We none of us want to be mixed up with any unpleasant business."
"You may trust me," said Miss Keating. "I am very discreet."
She rose. The old lady held her with detaining eyes.
"What shall you do when you have left her?"
"I suppose I shall have to look for another place."
"You are not going home, then?"
Miss Keating"s half-smile hinted at renunciation. "I have too many younger sisters."
"Well, let me see. I shall be going back to Surbiton the day after to-morrow. How would it be if you were to come with me?"
"Oh, Mrs.--Mrs.----" The smile wavered, but it held its place.
"Mrs. Jurd. If we suited each other you might stay with me, at any rate for a week or two. I"ve been a long time looking out for a companion."
Miss Keating"s smile was now strained with hesitation. Mrs. Jurd was not an invalid, and she was interested in Miss Keating. These were points in her favour. On the other hand, n.o.body who could do better would choose to live with Mrs. Jurd and wind wool and talk about the deep-sea fishermen.
"I am living," said Mrs. Jurd, "with my nephew at Surbiton. I have to keep his house for him."
"Then do you think you would really need any one?"
"Indeed I do. My nephew isn"t a companion for me. He"s in the city all day and out most evenings, or he brings his friends in and they get smoking."
Miss Keating"s smile was now released from its terrible constraint. A slight tremor, born of that deliverance, pa.s.sed over her face, and left it rosy. But having committed herself to the policy of hesitation she had a certain delicacy in departing from it now.
"Are you quite sure you would care to have _me_?"
"My dear, I am quite sure that I don"t care to have any one who is not a lady; and I am quite sure that I am talking to a lady. It is very seldom in these days that one can be sure."
Miss Keating made a little bow and blushed.
After a great deal of conversation it was settled that she should exchange the Cliff Hotel for the Metropole that night, and that she should stay there until she left Southbourne for Surbiton, with Mrs.
Jurd.
When Colonel and Mrs. Hankin looked in to report upon the weather, this scheme was submitted to them as to supreme judges in a question of propriety.
Mrs. Tailleur was not mentioned. Her name stood for things that decorous persons do not mention, except under certain sanctions and the plea of privilege. The Colonel might mention them to his wife, and his wife might mention them to Mrs. Jurd, who might pa.s.s them on with unimpeachable propriety to Miss Keating. But these ladies were unable to discuss Mrs. Tailleur in the presence of the Colonel. Still, as none of them could do without her, she was permitted to appear in a purified form, veiled in obscure references, or diminished to an innocent abstraction.