No Name by Wilkie Collins (good books for 7th graders TXT) 📕

In spite of Mrs. Lecount’s resolution not to be offended, Captain Wragge’s exasperating insensibility to every stroke she aimed at him began to ruffle her. She was conscious of some little difficulty in securing her self-possession before she could say anything more.

“Is there no immediate hope,” she resumed, “of Miss Bygrave being able to leave her room?”

“None whatever, ma’am.”

“You are satisfied, I suppose, with the medical attendance?”

“I have no medical attendance,” said the captain, composedly. “I watch the case myself.”

The gathering venom in Mrs. Lecount swelled up at that reply, and overflowed at her lips.

“Your smattering of science, sir,” she said, with a malicious smile, “includes, I presume, a smattering of medicine as well?”

“It does, ma’am,” answered the captain, without the slightest disturbance of face or manner. “I know as much of one as I do of the other.”

The tone in which he spoke those words left Mrs. Lecount but one dignified alternative. She rose to terminate the interview. The temptation of the moment proved too much for her, and she could not resist casting the shadow of a threat over Captain Wragge at parting.

“I defer thanking you, sir, for the manner in which you have received me,” she said, “until I can pay my debt of obligation to some purpose. In the meantime I am glad to infer, from the absence of a medical attendant in the house, that Miss Bygrave’s illness is much less serious than I had supposed it to be when I came here.”

“I never contradict a lady, ma’am,” rejoined the incorrigible captain. “If it is your pleasure, when we next meet to think my niece quite well, I shall bow resignedly to the expression of your opinion.” With those words, he followed the housekeeper into the passage, and politely opened the door for her. “I mark the trick, ma’am!” he said to himself, as he closed it again. “The trump-card in your hand is a sight of my niece, and I’ll take care you don’t play it!”

He returned to the parlor, and composedly awaited the next event which was likely to happen⁠—a visit from Mrs. Lecount’s master. In less than an hour results justified Captain Wragge’s anticipations, and Noel Vanstone walked in.

“My dear sir!” cried the captain, cordially seizing his visitor’s reluctant hand, “I know what you have come for. Mrs. Lecount has told you of her visit here, and has no doubt declared that my niece’s illness is a mere subterfuge. You feel surprised⁠—you feel hurt⁠—you suspect me of trifling with your kind sympathies⁠—in short, you require an explanation. That explanation you shall have. Take a seat, Mr. Vanstone. I am about to throw myself on your sense and judgment as a man of the world. I acknowledge that we are in a false position, sir; and I tell you plainly at the outset⁠—your housekeeper is the cause of it.”

For once in his life, Noel Vanstone opened his eyes. “Lecount!” he exclaimed, in the utmost bewilderment.

“The same, sir,” replied Captain Wragge. “I am afraid I offended Mrs. Lecount, when she came here this morning, by a want of cordiality in my manner. I am a plain man, and I can’t assume what I don’t feel. Far be it from me to breathe a word against your housekeeper’s character. She is, no doubt, a most excellent and trustworthy woman, but she has one serious failing common to persons at her time of life who occupy her situation⁠—she is jealous of her influence over her master, although you may not have observed it.”

“I beg your pardon,” interposed Noel Vanstone; “my observation is remarkably quick. Nothing escapes me.”

“In that case, sir,” resumed the captain, “you cannot fail to have noticed that Mrs. Lecount has allowed her jealousy to affect her conduct toward my niece?”

Noel Vanstone thought of the domestic passage at arms between Mrs. Lecount and himself when his guests of the evening had left Sea View, and failed to see his way to any direct reply. He expressed the utmost surprise and distress⁠—he thought Lecount had done her best to be agreeable on the drive to Dunwich⁠—he hoped and trusted there was some unfortunate mistake.

“Do you mean to say, sir,” pursued the captain, severely, “that you have not noticed the circumstance yourself? As a man of honor and a man of observation, you can’t tell me that! Your housekeeper’s superficial civility has not hidden your housekeeper’s real feeling. My niece has seen it, and so have you, and so have I. My niece, Mr. Vanstone, is a sensitive, high-spirited girl; and she has positively declined to cultivate Mrs. Lecount’s society for the future. Don’t misunderstand me! To my niece as well as to myself, the attraction of your society, Mr. Vanstone, remains the same. Miss Bygrave simply declines to be an apple of discord (if you will permit the classical allusion) cast into your household. I think she is right so far, and I frankly confess that I have exaggerated a nervous indisposition, from which she is really suffering, into a serious illness⁠—purely and entirely to prevent these two ladies for the present from meeting every day on the Parade, and from carrying unpleasant impressions of each other into your domestic establishment and mine.”

“I allow nothing unpleasant in my establishment,” remarked Noel Vanstone. “I’m master⁠—you must have noticed that already, Mr. Bygrave⁠—I’m master.”

“No doubt of it, my dear sir. But to live morning, noon, and night in the perpetual exercise of your authority is more like the life of a governor of a prison than the life of a master of a household. The wear and tear⁠—consider the wear and tear.”

“It strikes you in that light, does it?” said Noel Vanstone, soothed by Captain Wragge’s ready recognition of his authority. “I don’t know that you’re not right. But I must take some steps directly. I won’t be made ridiculous⁠—I’ll send Lecount away altogether, sooner than be made ridiculous.” His color rose, and he folded his little arms fiercely. Captain Wragge’s artfully irritating explanation had awakened that dormant suspicion of his housekeeper’s influence over him which habitually lay