Page:The Galaxy, Volume 5.djvu/573

Rh what her haggard face revealed—and concealed. "She is not very well," she went on to say; "and you know how sensitive she is, and how much inclined to be morbid; so, now, I want you to use all your Head, and all your heart, too, and never leave her, if you can help it, a moment to herself until she is married."

"I will do what I can," said Bessie, a little dubiously; "but you know how difficult she is, do you not? and, you know, if she says to me, 'Bessie, I do not want you, and I will not have you,' I cannot force myself on her. Now, don't you know this, Mrs. Kinniside?" a little timorously; for, between the two fires of Clementina and her mother, Bessie Bailey's path seemed by no means pleasant.

"I know that she is difficult," answered the mother, with a sigh; but—you must do your best, and not be afraid of her."

"Where is she now?" asked Bessie, looking round the room.

"Up stairs, I suppose," answered Mrs. Kinniside. "Run and see, dear child." She rose from her chair as she spoke, and clasped her hands nervously together.

Bessie did run and see; she ran and saw, too, in the garden; and she called "Clem! Clem! Clemmy! Clementina!" till she was hoarse; but the echoes and Clementina were silent alike, and not a trace of the pale, fair girl was to be seen. Then she came back to the dining-room, out of breath and aghast, and said: "I cannot find her anywhere, Mrs. Kinniside! She is nowhere to be seen!"

"She cannot have gone far," said the mother, trying to speak indifferently, and not succeeding. And then she, too, went, and called, and sought; but to the same result; and Clementina was not to be found, either in the house or in the garden, but no one had seen her leave either. Her hat, and shawl, and balmorals were missing from her dressing-room; and that was all the clew they had.

"Just the way Mr. Tom went, five years ago!" said old Hannah, the cook, to Bessie, as she came into the hall from the kitchen, with the kind of feeling that Clementina might be lying under the mat, or squeezed behind the sideboard, or stowed away among the cloaks and umbrellas—that strange feeling of being "hidden," and seen to turn up from some impossible place, that certain people have for those who are missing—a kind of superstition, of fear, very infectious.

"Who was Master Tom?" asked Bessie, arrested by the woman's manner.

"Th' old lady's son," said Hannah. "Didn't you know that. Miss? Master Tom, as fine and handsome a young gentleman as you'd wish to see, going to be married to the poor young lady at Oakingdean—we lived near Oakingdean then. Yes, a fine young gentleman was Master Tom, but odd-like at times. La blesh ye! one never knew where to have him! Sometimes he'd be up in the clouds, and sometimes as dull as dull. They used to say he was queer—'off at tide,' as we say where I come from; but I didn't believe it!—least-ways, he wasn't out of hand entirely. Young gentlemen's oft queer. However, he went out one day—the day the poor young lady was found murdered—and the Missis set out after him. We all thought he had gone quite off with the shock like, and I believe he did, and shall to my dying day. The Missis came back again, and Miss Clementina and she, they wore black for a bit. Master Tom, you see, died in London, and no one heard no more about him, poor young gentleman! Hasn't Miss Clementina told you all about him?—and you such friends? It was so, however; only don't say I told you."

With which old Hannah, remembering that her kitchen was "all in a scrow," hurried down stairs again, leaving Bessie in a maze, not quite unmixed with