The conduct of affairs in the house of the Harwoods was very dreary during the whole of this day. It was, to begin with, a very dreary day, not fog, which can be borne, but one of those dark days which are the scourge of London, when everything is dull and without color without and within, the skies gray, the earth gray, the leafless branches rising like a black tracery upon the colorless background, the light{278} scarcely enough to swear by, to make it seem unnatural to shut the shutters and light the lamp, which is what every well-constituted mind desires to do in the circumstances. And in the moral atmosphere the same thing reigned. Gussy had a countenance like the day. She, who had at no time much color, had now none. She was like the landscape: hair, eyes, and cheeks seemed the same. Every glimmer of light seemed to have been suppressed in her eyes. She kept them down, or she turned their gaze inward, or she veiled them with some film which is at the command of those who are angry, whether with or without cause. She made no inquiry even after the health of Meredith, which had been hitherto her chief preoccupation, except in so far as was implied in the conventional “How d’you do?” with which they met. Even he was daunted by the determined indifference of her aspect. When he talked of the drive which the doctor had suggested to him as a preliminary to getting out on foot, Gussy never lifted her eyes or made the least inquiry. Yesterday this step of decided progress would have been the most exciting event in the world to her. She took no notice of it now. There was scarcely anything said at table when they took their midday meal, with a candle or two lit on the mantelpiece, “to add a little cheerfulness,” as Mrs. Harwood said.
“For certainly we are not a very cheerful party,” added the mother, who was more full of life than all the rest put together.
She it was who took the lead in the conversation till Gussy retired. She talked to Meredith and a little to Janet, whom this curious aspect of the family interested greatly, though she did not quite understand it. But Gussy and Dolff both sat bolt upright and said nothing. They ate nothing, too, which, perhaps, was a more effectual weapon against their mother’s heart, and, when luncheon was over, they separated gloomily, Dolff disappearing no one knew where, Gussy to her room, where she said she had something to do while Mrs. Harwood retired with Meredith, between whom and herself a curious intimacy seemed to have struck up, to the dining-room, his room as it was called, to talk there.
In this universal gloom and strangeness Julia drew Janet out into the garden. The day grew darker as it approached its end, the atmosphere became more yellow, signs as of a fog appeared in the air. The governess and the pupil put on their ulsters, and began to walk up and down the garden walks, Julia hanging with all her might upon the arm of her companion, dragging down Janet almost to the ground.{279}
“Did you ever know,” Julia said, “such a detestable day?”
“It is turning to fog,” said Janet, trying to keep to what was commonplace. “It was better that we did not go out.”
“Oh, was I thinking of the fog?” said Julia. “I would rather see a dozen fogs than Gussy shut up like that, pursing up her lips as if she were afraid something would drop out when she spoke. And poor Dolff, so dismal, not knowing what to do with himself. Janet, do you think there could be any truth in all that story about Dolff?”
“My dear,” said Janet, “how should I have any opinion? I cannot be supposed to know about your brother, what he is likely to do.”
“Oh,” said Julia, “I did not ask you what you know, but what you think; everybody must have an opinion. Besides, after all, it is not so very little that you know about Dolff. He has been at home for six weeks, and you have always seen a great deal of him; at least I am sure he has always tried to see as much as he could of you.”
“I think,” said Janet, “that it is very bad taste for us to discuss people, especially for you to talk with me about your own family. You forget that I am the governess, Julia.”
“I think you are very nasty, and not nice at all. Whoever thinks of you as the governess! I wonder what you mean, saying such unkind things.”
“They are not unkind, they are true. Your mother and Gussy have been very good to me, but——”
“Oh, Janet, when you know we were very fond of you, and we thought you were fond of us!”
Here Janet was suddenly visited by a great compunction which changed at once her countenance and her feelings.
“Julia,” she said, “don’t speak to me. I feel so horrible sometimes, I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t think I am nice or good at all. Perhaps,” she added with a faint revulsion of self-defence after this impulsive confession, “it is not quite my fault.”
“I don’t understand you,” said Julia. “I ask you a question, quite a simple question, and you go off into reproaching yourself and saying you are not nice. What I want to know is whether you think it was Dolff that knocked Charley Meredith down? If it was, he has not had the strength of mind to stick to it, as I should have done. And what do you think that man meant who came to identify him, and then said it wasn’t he? And do you think that man last night really meant anything about Dolff, or did they only pretend to find out about the wing? And, oh, Janet, did you ever know, did{280} you ever suspect anything about the wing? Please don’t run away to other subjects, but tell me what you think.”
“Where am I to begin? I can’t answer all those questions at once.”
“Oh,” said Julia, with impatience, “how tiresome you are to-day! You don’t want to answer me at all. Do you remember that first night when you heard that cry, and were so frightened? I had heard it before, but mamma told me it was nothing, it was the wind in the empty rooms. One thinks it strange,” said Julia, “but at first one is stupid, you know, and just believes anything. But you see you were right; and you didn’t look surprised at all, not even to see mamma walking upstairs, she who never moves. Or, do you think she only pretends not to be able to move, to take us all in?” Julia added, after a pause.
“Oh, Julia, hush! How dare you say such a thing of your mother?”
“It is because she has deceived us about things,” said Julia, hanging her head. “It was Dolff that said so, not me. She has deceived us in one thing, and how are we to believe her in another. Both Dolff and Gussy think so, though Gussy says nothing; to think she has kept it secret all this time, and never let even the elder ones know: and how can we tell if it is not a deceit about the chair, too?”
“If you had seen how she tore herself out of it last night! It was only her misery and anxiety that gave her power to do it. It is very hard to judge any one like that. I daresay,” said Janet, indignantly, “that the other was done for your sakes, too, not to trouble you, when you were still so young, with knowing what was a great secret, I suppose?”
“Ah, but why was it a secret? and who do you think the man is, Janet?” said Julia, clinging ever and ever closer to her arm.
“Julia, what have I to do with the secrets of your family?”
“Why, you are one of the family,” said Julia; “you can’t help knowing; and again I tell you, Janet, it isn’t what you know, it’s what you think I am asking. Why don’t you give me your opinion? every one must have an opinion. Dolff and I, we don’t know what to think.”
Dolff himself came hurriedly up behind the girls at this moment. He had not gone out after all.
“Why do you trouble Miss Summerhayes, Ju? It is very interesting for us, but not for—a stranger——”
“That is what I have just been saying, Mr. Harwood.”
“—Who can’t take any particular interest, except just as a wonder and a thing to talk about, in what happens to us?{281}”
Dolff’s hands were thrust to the very bottom of his pockets, his shoulders were up to his ears, his head upon his breast. Gloom and anger and misery were on Dolff’s face. As for Janet, she had stiffened more and more with every word he said, and Julia, who had been clinging, with all a child’s affection, to the arm of her governess, felt herself repulsed and detached, she could not tell how, and protested loudly:
“Janet, because Dolff is disagreeable that’s no reason for shaking me off!”
“I have no intention of being disagreeable,” said Dolff, walking slowly with them. “I only say what every one must perceive to be the fact. We have all supposed there was a miracle to be performed, and Miss Summerhayes was to think of us as if—as if—she was, as you say, Ju, one of the family; but she does not feel like that; our affairs are nothing to her—only something that is odd and makes a story to talk about, as they would be to any other stranger.”
“Oh, if you are going to quarrel!” said Julia, &ld............