Raynsworth, I am Mrs Headfort'smaid--a very good, trustworthy girl, though rather young and not veryexperienced. So I hope, ma'am, I have made things clear."
Evelyn gasped.
"Phil!" was all she could find breath to say for a moment. "Yes,indeed," she went on, "I have been fearfully dense and stupid. I mighthave suspected something from your manner the last day or two, and whenyou so suddenly gave in about my going alone. But, oh, Phil, you areperfectly mad; such a thing cannot possibly be allowed. Just think ifit were found out! What _would_ Duke say?"
"Duke shall never hear of it!" Philippa replied, composedly. "It is mysecret, Evelyn; I throw myself upon your honour never to tell_anybody_--do you hear--anybody without my leave. You must _promise_."
"But papa and mamma?" said Evelyn, bewilderedly. "Papa and mamma,"repeated Philippa again, forgetting good manners in her excitement."_They_ know, of course. I mean,"--catching the increasing amazement onher sister's face--"I mean they will know by this time. I left a letterfor Dorcas to give mamma as soon as it was quite too late to stop me.In her heart I do believe mamma will be thankful to know I am with you,to take care of you, my poor little sweet, with your troubled whiteface. Oh, darling, do cheer up and see the bright side of it. _Itsgoing to be_--nothing would make me give it up--do understand that, andlet yourself be comfortable. Think how beautifully I can do your hair,and dress you, and everything, and what nice talks we can have when youare tired and come up to your room for a little rest. I can be ever somuch more use to you even for talking and consulting, than if I weregoing with you as your sister. And think, if you feel ill or verydepressed, how glad you will be to know I am at hand. And how gladmamma will be--why, I can write to her every day and keep her mind atrest."
Evelyn's face relaxed a little.
"But, Phil," she began, and by the tone of her voice, in spite of theremonstrating, "but," Philippa knew the battle was won, "but, Phil, thelife for you--among the _servants_--you, my sister! Oh, no, it--"
"It will be such a chance for studying one part of the other side ofthings as falls to very few," she interrupted. "Just what I shallenjoy. Why, if ever I come to write stories, as papa says I may do someday, think how valuable it will be to me to have actually made one atthe `second table' myself. It will be something like anight-in-a-casual-ward experience."
Evelyn shuddered.
"Don't say such things, Philippa, it makes it worse and worse. At leastthe servants will be _clean_."
"It is to be hoped so," said her sister, coolly.
"But the men-servants," continued Mrs Headfort; "fancy you sitting downbetween the butler and the valet! Oh, Philippa, when papa hears of it Ibelieve he will come off by the first train to fetch you himself."
"He will do nothing of the kind," returned Philippa. "He will shrug hisshoulders and say it will be a good lesson for me, and in his heart hewill enjoy the humour of it. You can certainly trust me to keep all thebutlers and valets in the world in their place, even though I'm only alady's-maid," and she drew up her head proudly. "But seriously, Evey,"she went on, "I'm sure there will be nothing of the kind required atWyverston; you may be pretty certain the servants will be a mostdecorous, old-fashioned set. I shall not be expected to do more than`speak when I'm spoken to' and `mend _your_ clothes' if you tear them."
Philippa knew what she was about. She went on talking in the samestrain till she succeeded in making Evelyn smile and even laugh, takingcare to treat the whole affair as irrevocable--a _fait accompli_--knowing Mrs Headfort's mind to be so constituted that taking heracceptance for granted was in nine cases out of ten to insure it.
An hour and more passed, Evelyn's intended opposition to theextraordinary drama arranged by Philippa, growing, half unconsciously toherself, feebler and fainter. She was feeling very tired, too, as theresult of the agitation she had gone through, and in such conditions itcame naturally to her to cling with childlike appeal to those aroundher. And Philippa's stronger personality made her a very rock ofsupport to poor Evey.
Suddenly a thought struck her.
"Phil," she said, "how is it you are travelling in here? Did you take afirst-class ticket?"
Miss Raynsworth shook her head.
"Oh, no," she replied; "I am going to get out at Crowminster. There isa second-class compartment next door. I don't suppose there will be anydifficulty about my having come this bit of the way with you, but ifthere should be, I can pay the difference. It is much better for me notto stay with you: we shall get into our role more quickly if we start atonce. I will look in at every station to see if you want anything. Wemust be getting near Crowminster now."
Evelyn did not speak for a moment or two.
"There is just one little thing to be settled," Philippa went on, with atouch of hesitation. "What will you call me, Evey?"
Evey glanced at her.
"Oh, Phil," she exclaimed, "it is altogether impossible. I shall neverbe able to keep it up."
"Nonsense," said her sister, with a touch of asperity. "_You_ will haveno keeping up, as you call it, to do, and as for my part of it, you cansafely leave that to me."
"I shall never be able to call you anything but Phil," said MrsHeadfort, plaintively.
"I've thought of that," replied the young girl. "We had better choose aname which would not clash--I mean, so that if you _did_ call me `Phil'by mistake, people would either not notice it or think you hadinterrupted yourself. What do you say to `Phillis'? It would do verywell, I think?"
"I daresay it would," said Mrs Headfort, with a curious kind ofresignation in her voice.
"Of course it is a _perfect_ name for a maid," said Philippa, "if peopledidn't always use surnames. But you can truthfully say, if any oneremarks upon it, that you've known me all my life, though I've onlylately entered your service."
"I cannot go into any explanations of the kind, whatever people say, Iwarn you, Philippa. I haven't the nerve for it. Even if my _words_were true, I should feel as if I were telling stories."
"Oh, well, say nothing, then," her sister replied, tranquilly. "On thewhole it will be as well, or perhaps better. But now, Evey, we aregetting near Crowminster, and I must go back to my own carriage.There's only just one thing more I want to prepare you for.--Shut youreyes for a minute."
Evey meekly obeyed; she was past the stage of any attempt at restivenessby this time.
"Now," said Philippa, and Evelyn, looking up, gave a slight exclamation.
"Who would have thought it would change you so? Where in the world didyou get them?"
The "it" and the "them" referred to a pair of bluish-tinted spectacleswhich Philippa had composedly donned.
"Aren't they splendid?" she said. "Don't you remember them? They're apair mamma had that summer ages ago, when she went to Switzerland withpapa, to shade her eyes from the glare. Of course they're only plainglass, and very dark blue ones wouldn't have done; they look so like adisguise. At least, in all the sensational stories, they are alwaysused for that. And real spectacles would have dazed me, for my sight'sas keen as--"
"A hawk's!" said Mrs Headfort, with a spark of reviving vivacity."But, oh, Phil, the train is slackening. I wish you could have stayedwith me."
"It is much better not," said Philippa, philosophically. "Very muchbetter not. We should have gone on talking and forgetting the new stateof things. My being in another compartment is the first act in theplay--it will help us to realise it. And now, ma'am," she continued,rising as she spoke, for by this time the train had stopped, "I hadbetter leave you. I will come to see if you desire me for anything atthe next station we stop at."
Without the undue effort or constraint, which would have accompanied anycomplete change of tone for a prolonged period, she had managed slightlyto modify her usual inflection of voice and manner of speaking. It wasslower and more monotonous than its wont, with a slight suggestion ofchoosing her words, as might be done by an intelligent girl of a lowerclass with enough education to make her aspire to p
erfect correctness.
"All right, Phillis," Mrs Headfort replied, with a somewhat pitiful andnot very successful attempt at following her sister's lead. "No," shecontinued, with a sudden change of tone, "don't speak to me. I can'tstand it! I will do my best to brace myself up to it, but it won't beeasy. Perhaps it _is_ better for you to leave me alone."
Philippa did not reply, except by a smile and a nod, feeling, to tellthe truth, far less easy-minded