Sydney turned to go away--and suddenly stopped.
Another person was advancing from the hotel; an interruption, a trivial domestic interruption, presented itself. The nursemaid had missed the child, and had come into the garden to see if she was with her mother.
“Where is Miss Kitty, ma’am?” the girl asked.
Her mistress told her what had happened, and sent her to the Palace to relieve Captain Bennydeck of the charge that he had undertaken. Susan listened, looking at Sydney and recognizing the familiar face. As the girl moved away, Sydney spoke to her.
The mother does not live who could have resisted the tone in which that question was put. The broken heart, the love for the child that still lived in it, spoke in accents that even touched the servant. She came back; remembering the happy days when the governess had won their hearts at Mount Morven, and, for a moment at least, remembering nothing else.
“Quite well and happy, miss, thank you,” Susan said.
As she hurried away on her errand, she saw her mistress beckon to Sydney to return, and place a chair for her. The nursemaid was not near enough to hear what followed.
“Miss Westerfield, will you forget what I said just now?” With those words, Catherine pointed to the chair. “I am ready to hear you,” she resumed--“but I have something to ask first. Does what you wish to say to me relate only to yourself?”
“It relates to another person, as well as to myself.”
That reply, and the inference to which it led, tried Catherine’s resolution to preserve her self-control, as nothing had tried it yet.
“If that other person,” she began, “means Mr. Herbert Linley--”
Sydney interrupted her, in words which she was entirely unprepared to hear.
“I shall never see Mr. Herbert Linley again.”
The emphasis laid on that one word forced Sydney to assert herself for the first time.
“If I had not left him of my own free will,” she said, “what else would excuse me for venturing to come here?”
Catherine’s sense of justice felt the force of that reply. At the same time her sense of injury set its own construction on Sydney’s motive. “Has his cruelty driven you away from him?” she asked.
“If he has been cruel to me,” Sydney answered, “do you think I should have come here to complain of it to You? Do me the justice to believe that I am not capable of such self-degradation as that. I have nothing to complain of.”