LITMIR.BIZ

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she answered. “He thought I was – pretty. He used to lie in wait for me on the stairs. I meant no harm – I swear to you I meant no harm – and then – the housekeeper saw us yesterday. She spoke to the Master when he came home and he turned me out there and then without any reference – I can’t go home, ma’am – and tell them what has – happened.”

      “And the young gentleman?” Cornelia asked, “did he do nothing to help you?”

      “He didn’t get a chance, ma’am. He was sent away last night to stay with his relations in Scotland – I heard that he was going when the orders came for the butler to pack for him – but I didn’t realise it was because of me – not until the Master told me that he was gone and turned me out of the house.”

      “But that was cruel and unjust,” Cornelia cried.

      “No, ma’am, I wasn’t doin’ the right thing and – I knew it. He shouldn’t have been spending his time with the likes of me – but I loved him, ma’am – oh, I did love him – ”

      The words came out with a wail of despair and looking at the girl’s trembling lips and the tightness of her clenched hands, Cornelia could only feel overwhelmingly sorry for her. She was pretty despite the ravages that her misery and tears had made on her face.

      She had brown eyes and brown hair that curled over her ears and round her forehead. There was freshness and a sweetness about her and Cornelia could understand how a young gentleman, bored with the girls of his own class, had found himself interested in the new and attractive face to be seen in the corridors of his home.

      It was wrong, it was bound to end in tragedy and yet the only real sufferer was this girl from the country, an unsophisticated child who had lost her heart to a man who had found her an amusing plaything.

      “You say you cannot go home?” Cornelia asked.

      “Oh, ma’am, how can I? Everyone was so kind when I left. The servants at the Court gave me a present and the Vicar a Bible. My father paid for my fare to London and bought me a new coat. I’d be ashamed to tell them what happened and my stepmother never liked me. If I went back now, she’d see to it that I never had another chance. No, ma’am, I’d rather die, far – far rather!”

      “It is wicked to talk of taking your life,” Cornelia said sternly, “besides, you are young – you will find something else to do.”

      “There’s no respectable house as will take me in without a reference,” the girl answered.

      Cornelia sat and wondered what she should do. It was no use giving this girl money for, if she was to live alone, it was obvious that more and even worse trouble could come to her.

      It was not the sort of story that she could tell to anyone else and ask their help. Neither her aunt or uncle would be sympathetic nor would they be willing to assist someone whom she had met in such unusual circumstances.

      Then an idea came to Cornelia.

      “What is your name?” she asked.

      “Violet, ma’am – Violet Walters.”

      “Well, listen to me, Violet, I will engage you as my lady’s maid.”

      “No, ma’am, I can’t let you do that!” Violet cried. “I am not experienced enough – and besides, you know nothin’ about me except what I told you and that’s not to my good.”

      “I am sorry for you and I like you,” Cornelia replied. “We all make mistakes in our lives but you have been punished for yours while others often seem to get off scot-free. I want you to come to me, will you?”

      The girl lifted her face and stared at Cornelia. She saw the dawning hope in the tired eyes. Then, with a little sob, Violet turned her head away.

      “You’re ever so kind, ma’am, but it wouldn’t be right for me to take advantage of your kindness. The Master said I was a bad lot and perhaps he’s right. It was wrong of me to so much as lift my eyes to the young Master – I knew it and yet I did what was wrong – because – ”

      “ – because you loved him,” Cornelia finished.

      “Yes, that’s true. I loved him, but that sort of love is no good to a girl, ma’am. I should have cut it out of my heart, had I done what was right, but somehow – it was there all of a sudden like and there was nothing I could do it about it except – go on lovin’ him.”

      Cornelia sat very still. She was looking across the water. So that was how love came to one, she thought, suddenly, before one was aware of it, creeping into one’s heart like a thief in the night.

      She felt a sudden ecstasy inside her, a weird feeling as if something within herself was opening, shining and beautiful and then, even as she shrank from the glory of the revelation, she knew the truth.

      Love had come to her, even as it had come to poor unhappy Violet. It was there and it was too late now to do anything about it.

      Impulsively she turned to the girl at her side.

      “Forget the past Violet,” she said. “I will help you and I want you to help me. Now, listen to me carefully while I tell you what to do.”

      The idea came to her of just how Violet could come to her uncle’s house and she would engage her. She felt a new confidence in herself and a sureness in what she said that had not been there before. It was as if in trying to help someone else a new strength of character was born in herself. She had felt lost and bewildered and utterly purposeless ever since she had left Rosaril, yet now this stranger had brought her self-assurance and a sense of direction.

      “First, you must have something to eat,” Cornelia said firmly. “Have you been in the Park all night?”

      “I took my trunk to Paddington Station first of all, ma’am. The Master had told me to go home. I meant to obey him, but when I got to the Station, I knew I could not do it. I could not confess to them what had happened to me – I couldn’t go creepin’ back, shamed and humiliated – I walked about the streets – men spoke to me, but I ran away from them and then, when the Park opened, I came in here. It was peaceful and I thought that if I cried no one would hear me.”

      “But I heard you. And now you must promise me to do exactly as I tell you.”

      “You are sure, ma’am, that you really want me? You believe me, but I might have been lyin’ to you – I might be a thief as well as everythin’ else.”

      “I am not afraid,” Cornelia said gently. “I have a feeling, Violet, that it was meant for us to meet each other and that, once we are together, you will not let me down,”

      “I swear to you, ma’am, I will serve you to the end of my life,” Violet cried fervently.

      “Thank you, now please do as I tell you and when you come to my uncle’s house, you must call me ‘miss’, not ‘ma’am’. Ask for Miss Bedlington and don’t forget the story I have told you.”

      “I won’t forget, miss.”

      Cornelia gave her some money and she promised to eat some breakfast, to tidy herself up and come to 94 Park Lane about eleven o’clock.

      Cornelia, rising to her feet, then held out her hand. Violet took it shyly in her own work roughened fingers, then she bent her head suddenly and pressed her lips against it

      “God bless you, miss,” she said and there were tears in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

      Cornelia walked back the way she had come. As she went, she felt that she had grown older in some subtle way since she had left her uncle’s house. She had seen suffering and misery, she had seen too an expression of love and devotion. It had been strangely moving and it had awakened her to new and hitherto unknown emotions within herself.

      Even now she hardly dared to acknowledge the feelings in her heart and yet she was acutely conscious of it.

      She

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