"Oh but she likes you so!" Maisie promptly pleaded.
Sir Claude literally coloured. "That has something to do with it."
Maisie wondered again. "Being liked with being afraid?"
"Yes, when it amounts to adoration."
"Then why aren"t you afraid of ME?"
"Because with you it amounts to that?" He had kept his hand on her arm.
"Well, what prevents is simply that you"re the gentlest spirit on earth.
Besides--" he pursued; but he came to a pause.
"Besides--?"
"I SHOULD be in fear if you were older--there! See--you already make me talk nonsense," the young man added. "The question"s about your father.
Is he likewise afraid of Mrs. Beale?"
"I think not. And yet he loves her," Maisie mused.
"Oh no--he doesn"t; not a bit!" After which, as his companion stared, Sir Claude apparently felt that he must make this oddity fit with her recollections. "There"s nothing of that sort NOW."
But Maisie only stared the more. "They"ve changed?"
"Like your mother and me."
She wondered how he knew. "Then you"ve seen Mrs. Beale again?"
He demurred. "Oh no. She has written to me," he presently subjoined.
"SHE"S not afraid of your father either. No one at all is--really."
Then he went on while Maisie"s little mind, with its filial spring too relaxed from of old for a pang at this want of parental majesty, speculated on the vague relation between Mrs. Beale"s courage and the question, for Mrs. Wix and herself, of a neat lodging with their friend.
"She wouldn"t care a bit if Mr. Farange should make a row."
"Do you mean about you and me and Mrs. Wix? Why should she care? It wouldn"t hurt HER."
Sir Claude, with his legs out and his hand diving into his trousers-pocket, threw back his head with a laugh just perceptibly tempered, as she thought, by a sigh. "My dear stepchild, you"re delightful! Look here, we must pay. You"ve had five buns?"
"How CAN you?" Maisie demanded, crimson under the eye of the young woman who had stepped to their board. "I"ve had three."
Shortly after this Mrs. Wix looked so ill that it was to be feared her ladyship had treated her to some unexampled pa.s.sage. Maisie asked if anything worse than usual had occurred; whereupon the poor woman brought out with infinite gloom: "He has been seeing Mrs. Beale."
"Sir Claude?" The child remembered what he had said. "Oh no--not SEEING her!"
"I beg your pardon. I absolutely know it." Mrs. Wix was as positive as she was dismal.
Maisie nevertheless ventured to challenge her. "And how, please, do you know it?"
She faltered a moment. "From herself. I"ve been to see her."
Then on Maisie"s visible surprise: "I went yesterday while you were out with him. He has seen her repeatedly."
It was not wholly clear to Maisie why Mrs. Wix should be prostrate at this discovery; but her general consciousness of the way things could be both perpetrated and resented always eased off for her the strain of the particular mystery. "There may be some mistake. He says he hasn"t."
Mrs. Wix turned paler, as if this were a still deeper ground for alarm.
"He says so?--he denies that he has seen her?"
"He told me so three days ago. Perhaps she"s mistaken," Maisie suggested.
"Do you mean perhaps she lies? She lies whenever it suits her, I"m very sure. But I know when people lie--and that"s what I"ve loved in you, that YOU never do. Mrs. Beale didn"t yesterday at any rate. He HAS seen her."
Maisie was silent a little. "He says not," she then repeated.
"Perhaps--perhaps--" Once more she paused.
"Do you mean perhaps HE lies?"
"Gracious goodness, no!" Maisie shouted.
Mrs. Wix"s bitterness, however, again overflowed. "He does, he does,"
she cried, "and it"s that that"s just the worst of it! They"ll take you, they"ll take you, and what in the world will then become of me?"
She threw herself afresh upon her pupil and wept over her with the inevitable effect of causing the child"s own tears to flow. But Maisie couldn"t have told you if she had been crying at the image of their separation or at that of Sir Claude"s untruth. As regards this deviation it was agreed between them that they were not in a position to bring it home to him. Mrs. Wix was in dread of doing anything to make him, as she said, "worse"; and Maisie was sufficiently initiated to be able to reflect that in speaking to her as he had done he had only wished to be tender of Mrs. Beale. It fell in with all her inclinations to think of him as tender, and she forbore to let him know that the two ladies had, as SHE would never do, betrayed him.
She had not long to keep her secret, for the next day, when she went out with him, he suddenly said in reference to some errand he had first proposed: "No, we won"t do that--we"ll do something else." On this, a few steps from the door, he stopped a hansom and helped her in; then following her he gave the driver over the top an address that she lost.
When he was seated beside her she asked him where they were going; to which he replied "My dear child, you"ll see." She saw while she watched and wondered that they took the direction of the Regent"s Park; but she didn"t know why he should make a mystery of that, and it was not till they pa.s.sed under a pretty arch and drew up at a white house in a terrace from which the view, she thought, must be lovely that, mystified, she clutched him and broke out: "I shall see papa?"
He looked down at her with a kind smile. "No, probably not. I haven"t brought you for that."
"Then whose house is it?"
"It"s your father"s. They"ve moved here."
She looked about: she had known Mr. Farange in four or five houses, and there was nothing astonishing in this except that it was the nicest place yet. "But I shall see Mrs. Beale?"
"It"s to see her that I brought you."
She stared, very white, and, with her hand on his arm, though they had stopped, kept him sitting in the cab. "To leave me, do you mean?"
He could scarce bring it out. "It"s not for me to say if you CAN stay.
We must look into it."
"But if I do I shall see papa?"
"Oh some time or other, no doubt." Then Sir Claude went on: "Have you really so very great a dread of that?"
Maisie glanced away over the ap.r.o.n of the cab--gazed a minute at the green expanse of the Regent"s Park and, at this moment colouring to the roots of her hair, felt the full, hot rush of an emotion more mature than any she had yet known. It consisted of an odd unexpected shame at placing in an inferior light, to so perfect a gentleman and so charming a person as Sir Claude, so very near a relative as Mr. Farange. She remembered, however, her friend"s telling her that no one was seriously afraid of her father, and she turned round with a small toss of her head. "Oh I dare say I can manage him!"
Sir Claude smiled, but she noted that the violence with which she had just changed colour had brought into his own face a slight compunctious and embarra.s.sed flush. It was as if he had caught his first glimpse of her sense of responsibility. Neither of them made a movement to get out, and after an instant he said to her: "Look here, if you say so we won"t after all go in."
"Ah but I want to see Mrs. Beale!" the child gently wailed.