CHAPTER IX. MRS. ROOK AND THE LOCKET.
As mistress of a prosperous school, bearing a widely-extendedreputation, Miss Ladd prided herself on the liberality of her householdarrangements. At breakfast and dinner, not only the solid comforts butthe elegant luxuries of the table, were set before the young ladies"Other schools may, and no doubt do, offer to pupils the affectionatecare to which they have been accustomed under the parents' roof," MissLadd used to say. "At my school, that care extends to their meals, andprovides them with a _cuisine_ which, I flatter myself, equals the mostsuccessful efforts of the cooks at home." Fathers, mothers, and friends,when they paid visits to this excellent lady, brought away with themthe most gratifying recollections of her hospitality. The men, inparticular, seldom failed to recognize in their hostess the rarestvirtue that a single lady can possess--the virtue of putting wine on thetable which may be gratefully remembered by her guests the next morning.
An agreeable surprise awaited Mrs. Rook when she entered the house ofbountiful Miss Ladd.
Luncheon was ready for Sir Jervis Redwood's confidential emissary in thewaiting-room. Detained at the final rehearsals of music and recitation,Miss Ladd was worthily represented by cold chicken and ham, a fruittart, and a pint decanter of generous sherry. "Your mistress isa perfect lady!" Mrs. Rook said to the servant, with a burst ofenthusiasm. "I can carve for myself, thank you; and I don't care howlong Miss Emily keeps me waiting."
As they ascended the steps leading into the house, Alban asked Emily ifhe might look again at her locket.
"Shall I open it for you?" she suggested.
"No: I only want to look at the outside of it."
He examined the side on which the monogram appeared, inlaid withdiamonds. An inscription was engraved beneath.
"May I read it?" he said.
"Certainly!"
The inscription ran thus: "In loving memory of my father. Died 30thSeptember, 1877."
"Can you arrange the locket," Alban asked, "so that the side on whichthe diamonds appear hangs outward?"
She understood him. The diamonds might attract Mrs. Rook's notice; andin that case, she might ask to see the locket of her own accord. "Youare beginning to be of use to me, already," Emily said, as they turnedinto the corridor which led to the waiting-room.
They found Sir Jervis's housekeeper luxuriously recumbent in the easiestchair in the room.
Of the eatable part of the lunch some relics were yet left. In the pintdecanter of sherry, not a drop remained. The genial influence of thewine (hastened by the hot weather) was visible in Mrs. Rook's flushedface, and in a special development of her ugly smile. Her widening lipsstretched to new lengths; and the white upper line of her eyeballs weremore freely and horribly visible than ever.
"And this is the dear young lady?" she said, lifting her hands inover-acted admiration. At the first greetings, Alban perceived thatthe impression produced was, in Emily's case as in his case, instantlyunfavorable.
The servant came in to clear the table. Emily stepped aside for a minuteto give some directions about her luggage. In that interval Mrs. Rook'scunning little eyes turned on Alban with an expression of maliciousscrutiny.
"You were walking the other way," she whispered, "when I met you." Shestopped, and glanced over her shoulder at Emily. "I see what attractionhas brought you back to the school. Steal your way into that poor littlefool's heart; and then make her miserable for the rest of her life!--Noneed, miss, to hurry," she said, shifting the polite side of her towardEmily, who returned at the moment. "The visits of the trains to yourstation here are like the visits of the angels described by the poet,'few and far between.' Please excuse the quotation. You wouldn't thinkit to look at me--I'm a great reader."
"Is it a long journey to Sir Jervis Redwood's house?" Emily asked, at aloss what else to say to a woman who was already becoming unendurable toher.
Mrs. Rook looked at the journey from an oppressively cheerful point ofview.
"Oh, Miss Emily, you shan't feel the time hang heavy in my company. Ican converse on a variety of topics, and if there is one thing more thananother that I like, it's amusing a pretty young lady. You think me astrange creature, don't you? It's only my high spirits. Nothing strangeabout me--unless it's my queer Christian name. You look a little dull,my dear. Shall I begin amusing you before we are on the railway? Shall Itell you how I came by my queer name?"
Thus far, Alban had controlled himself. This last specimen of thehousekeeper's audacious familiarity reached the limits of his endurance.
"We don't care to know how you came by your name," he said.
"Rude," Mrs. Rook remarked, composedly. "But nothing surprises me,coming from a man."
She turned to Emily. "My father and mother were a wicked marriedcouple," she continued, "before I was born. They 'got religion,' asthe saying is, at a Methodist meeting in a field. When I came into theworld--I don't know how you feel, miss; I protest against being broughtinto the world without asking my leave first--my mother was determinedto dedicate me to piety, before I was out of my long clothes. Whatname do you suppose she had me christened by? She chose it, or made it,herself--the name of 'Righteous'! Righteous Rook! Was there ever a poorbaby degraded by such a ridiculous name before? It's needless to say,when I write letters, I sign R. Rook--and leave people to think it'sRosamond, or Rosabelle, or something sweetly pretty of that kind.You should have seen my husband's face when he first heard that hissweetheart's name was 'Righteous'! He was on the point of kissing me,and he stopped. I daresay he felt sick. Perfectly natural under thecircumstances."
Alban tried to stop her again. "What time does the train go?" he asked.
Emily entreated him to restrain himself, by a look. Mrs. Rook was stilltoo inveterately amiable to take offense. She opened her traveling-bagbriskly, and placed a railway guide in Alban's hands.
"I've heard that the women do the men's work in foreign parts," shesaid. "But this is England; and I am an Englishwoman. Find out when thetrain goes, my dear sir, for yourself."
Alban at once consulted the guide. If there proved to be no immediateneed of starting for the station, he was determined that Emily shouldnot be condemned to pass the interval in the housekeeper's company. Inthe meantime, Mrs. Rook was as eager as ever to show her dear young ladywhat an amusing companion she could be.
"Talking of husbands," she resumed, "don't make the mistake, my dear,that I committed. Beware of letting anybody persuade you to marry an oldman. Mr. Rook is old enough to be my father. I bear with him. Of course,I bear with him. At the same time, I have not (as the poet says) 'passedthrough the ordeal unscathed.' My spirit--I have long since ceasedto believe in anything of the sort: I only use the word for want ofa better--my spirit, I say, has become embittered. I was once a piousyoung woman; I do assure you I was nearly as good as my name. Don't letme shock you; I have lost faith and hope; I have become--what's the lastnew name for a free-thinker? Oh, I keep up with the times, thanks toold Miss Redwood! She takes in the newspapers, and makes me read themto her. What _is_ the new name? Something ending in ic. Bombastic? No,Agnostic?--that's it! I have become an Agnostic. The inevitable resultof marrying an old man; if there's any blame it rests on my husband."
"There's more than an hour yet before the train starts," Albaninterposed. "I am sure, Miss Emily, you would find it pleasanter to waitin the garden."
"Not at all a bad notion," Mrs. Rook declared. "Here's a man who canmake himself useful, for once. Let's go into the garden."
She rose, and led the way to the door. Alban seized the opportunity ofwhispering to Emily.
"Did you notice the empty decanter, when we first came in? That horridwoman is drunk."
Emily pointed significantly to the locket. "Don't let her go. The gardenwill distract her attention: keep her near me here."
Mrs. Rook gayly opened the door. "Take me to the flower-beds," she said."I believe in nothing--but I adore flowers."
Mrs. Rook waited at the door, with her eye on Emily. "What do _you_ sa
y,miss?"
"I think we shall be more comfortable if we stay where we are."
"Whatever pleases you, my dear, pleases me." With this reply, thecompliant housekeeper--as amiable as ever on the surface--returned toher chair.
Would she notice the locket as she sat down? Emily turned toward thewindow, so as to let the light fall on the diamonds.
No: Mrs. Rook was absorbed, at the moment, in her own reflections. MissEmily, having prevented her from seeing the garden, she was maliciouslybent on disappointing Miss Emily in return. Sir Jervis's secretary(being young) took a hopeful view no doubt of her future prospects.Mrs. Rook decided on darkening that view in a mischievously-suggestivemanner, peculiar to herself.
"You will naturally feel some curiosity about your new home," she began,"and I haven't said a word about it yet. How very thoughtless of me!Inside and out, dear Miss Emily, our house is just a little dull. I say_our_ house, and why not--when the management of it is all thrown on me.We are built of stone; and we are much too long, and are not half highenough. Our situation is on the coldest side of the county, away inthe west. We are close to the Cheviot hills; and if you fancy there isanything to see when you look out of window, except sheep, you will findyourself woefully mistaken. As for walks, if you go out on one side ofthe house you may, or may not, be gored by cattle. On the other side, ifthe darkness overtakes you, you may, or may not, tumble down a desertedlead mine. But the company, inside the house, makes amends for itall," Mrs. Rook proceeded, enjoying the expression of dismay which wasbeginning to show itself on Emily's face. "Plenty of excitement for you,my dear, in our small family. Sir Jervis will introduce you to plastercasts of hideous Indian idols; he will keep you writing for him, withoutmercy, from morning to night; and when he does let you go, old MissRedwood will find she can't sleep, and will send for the pretty younglady-secretary to read to her. My husband I am sure you will like. He isa respectable man, and bears the highest character. Next to the idols,he's the most hideous object in the house. If you are good enough toencourage him, I don't say that he won't amuse you; he will tell you,for instance, he never in his life hated any human being as he hateshis wife. By the way, I must not forget--in the interests of truth, youknow--to mention one drawback that does exist in our domestic circle.One of these days we shall have our brains blown out or our throatscut. Sir Jervis's mother left him ten thousand pounds' worth of preciousstones all contained in a little cabinet with drawers. He won't let thebanker take care of his jewels; he won't sell them; he won't even wearone of the rings on his finger, or one of the pins at his breast. Hekeeps his cabinet on his dressing-room table; and he says, 'I like togloat over my jewels, every night, before I go to bed.' Ten thousandpounds' worth of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and what not--atthe mercy of the first robber who happens to hear of them. Oh, my dear,he would have no choice, I do assure you, but to use his pistols. Weshouldn't quietly submit to be robbed. Sir Jervis inherits the spiritof his ancestors. My husband has the temper of a game cock. I myself,in defense of the property of my employers, am capable of becoming aperfect fiend. And we none of us understand the use of firearms!"
While she was in full enjoyment of this last aggravation of the horrorsof the prospect, Emily tried another change of position--and, this time,with success. Greedy admiration suddenly opened Mrs. Rook's little eyesto their utmost width. "My heart alive, miss, what do I see at yourwatch-chain? How they sparkle! Might I ask for a closer view?"
Emily's fingers trembled; but she succeeded in detaching the locket fromthe chain. Alban handed it to Mrs. Rook.
She began by admiring the diamonds--with a certain reserve. "Nothinglike so large as Sir Jervis's diamonds; but choice specimens no doubt.Might I ask what the value--?"
She stopped. The inscription had attracted her notice: she began to readit aloud: "In loving memory of my father. Died--"
Her face instantly became rigid. The next words were suspended on herlips.
Alban seized the chance of making her betray herself--under pretense ofhelping her. "Perhaps you find the figures not easy to read," hesaid. "The date is 'thirtieth September, eighteen hundred andseventy-seven'--nearly four years since."
Not a word, not a movement, escaped Mrs. Rook. She held the locketbefore her as she had held it from the first. Alban looked at Emily.Her eyes were riveted on the housekeeper: she was barely capable ofpreserving the appearance of composure. Seeing the necessity of actingfor her, he at once said the words which she was unable to say forherself.
"Perhaps, Mrs. Rook, you would like to look at the portrait?" hesuggested. "Shall I open the locket for you?"
Without speaking, without looking up, she handed the locket to Alban.
He opened it, and offered it to her. She neither accepted nor refusedit: her hands remained hanging over the arms of the chair. He put thelocket on her lap.
The portrait produced no marked effect on Mrs. Rook. Had the dateprepared her to see it? She sat looking at it--still without moving:still without saying a word. Alban had no mercy on her. "That is theportrait of Miss Emily's father," he said. "Does it represent the sameMr. Brown whom you had in your mind when you asked me if Miss Emily'sfather was still living?"
That question roused her. She looked up, on the instant; she answeredloudly and insolently: "No!"
"And yet," Alban persisted, "you broke down in reading the inscription:and considering what talkative woman you are, the portrait has had astrange effect on you--to say the least of it."
She eyed him steadily while he was speaking--and turned to Emily when hehad done. "You mentioned the heat just now, miss. The heat has overcomeme; I shall soon get right again."
The insolent futility of that excuse irritated Emily into answeringher. "You will get right again perhaps all the sooner," she said, "ifwe trouble you with no more questions, and leave you to recover byyourself."
The first change of expression which relaxed the iron tensity of thehousekeeper's face showed itself when she heard that reply. At lastthere was a feeling in Mrs. Rook which openly declared itself--a feelingof impatience to see Alban and Emily leave the room.
They left her, without a word more.