Mrs. Ellmother reluctantly entered the room.

Since Emily had seen her last, her personal appearance doublyjustified the nickname by which her late mistress haddistinguished her. The old servant was worn and wasted; her gownhung loose on her angular body; the big bones of her face stoodout, more prominently than ever. She took Emily's offered handdoubtingly. "I hope I see you well, miss," she said--with hardlya vestige left of her former firmness of voice and manner.

"I am afraid you have been suffering from illness," Emilyanswered gently.

"It's the life I'm leading that wears me down; I want work andchange."

Making that reply, she looked round, and discovered Francineobserving her with undisguised curiosity. "You have got companywith you," she said to Emily. "I had better go away, and comeback another time."

Francine stopped her before she could open the door. "You mustn'tgo away; I wish to speak to you."

"About what, miss?"

The eyes of the two women met--one, near the end of her life,concealing under a rugged surface a nature sensitivelyaffectionate and incorruptibly true: the other, young in years,with out the virtues of youth, hard in manner and hard at heart.In silence on either side, they stood face to face; strangersbrought together by the force of circumstances, workinginexorably toward their hidden end.

Emily introduced Mrs. Ellmother to Francine. "It may be worthyour while," she hinted, "to hear what this young lady has tosay."

Mrs. Ellmother listened, with little appearance of interest inanything that a stranger might have to say: her eyes rested onthe card which contained her written request to Emily. Francine,watching her closely, understood what was passing in her mind. Itmight be worth while to conciliate the old woman by a little actof attention. Turning to Emily, Francine pointed to the cardlying on the table. "You have not attended yet to Mr. Ellmother'srequest," she said.

Emily at once assured Mrs. Ellmother that the request wasgranted. "But is it wise," she asked, "to go out to serviceagain, at your age?"

"I have been used to service all my life, Miss Emily--that's onereason. And service may help me to get rid of my ownthoughts--that's another. If you can find me a situationsomewhere, you will be doing me a good turn."

"Is it useless to suggest that you might come back, and live withme?" Emily ventured to say.

Mrs. Ellmother's head sank on her breast. "Thank you kindly,miss; it _is_ useless."

"Why is it useless?" Francine asked.

Mrs. Ellmother was silent.

"Miss de Sor is speaking to you," Emily reminded her.

"Am I to answer Miss de Sor?"

Attentively observing what passed, and placing her ownconstruction on looks and tones, it suddenly struck Francine thatEmily herself might be in Mrs. Ellmother's confidence, and thatshe might have reasons of her own for assuming ignorance whenawkward questions were asked. For the moment at least, Francinedecided on keeping her suspicions to herself.

"I may perhaps offer you the employment you want," she said toMrs. Ellmother. "I am staying at Brighton, for the present, withthe lady who was Miss Emily's schoolmistress, and I am in need ofa maid. Would you be willing to consider it, if I proposed toengage you?"

"Yes, miss."

"In that case, you can hardly object to the customary inquiry.Why did you leave your last place?"

Mrs. Ellmother appealed to Emily. "Did you tell this young ladyhow long I remained in my last place?"

Melancholy remembrances had been revived in Emily by the turnwhich the talk had now taken. Francine's cat-like patience,stealthily feeling its way to its end, jarred on her nerves."Yes," she said; "in justice to you, I have mentioned your longterm of service."

M rs. Ellmother addressed Francine. "You know, miss, that Iserved my late mistress for over twenty-five years. Will youplease remember that--and let it be a reason for not asking mewhy I left my place."

Francine smiled compassionately. "My good creature, you havementioned the very reason why I _should_ ask. You livefive-and-twenty years with your mistress--and then suddenly leaveher--and you expect me to pass over this extraordinary proceedingwithout inquiry. Take a little time to think."

"I want no time to think. What I had in my mind, when I left MissLetitia, is something which I refuse to explain, miss, to you, orto anybody."

She recovered some of her old firmness, when she made that reply.Francine saw the necessity of yielding--for the time at least,Emily remained silent, oppressed by remembrance of the doubts andfears which had darkened the last miserable days of her aunt'sillness. She began already to regret having made Francine andMrs. Ellmother known to each other.

"I won't dwell on what appears to be a painful subject, "Francinegraciously resumed. "I meant no offense. You are not angry, Ihope?"

"Sorry, miss. I might have been angry, at one time. That time isover."

It was said sadly and resignedly: Emily heard the answer. Herheart ached as she looked at the old servant, and thought of thecontrast between past and present. With what a hearty welcomethis broken woman had been used to receive her in the bygoneholiday-time! Her eyes moistened. She felt the mercilesspersistency of Francine, as if it had been an insult offered toherself. "Give it up!" she said sharply.

"Leave me, my dear, to manage my own business," Francine replied."About your qualifications?" she continued, turning coolly toMrs. Ellmother. "Can you dress hair?"

"Yes."

"I ought to tell you," Francine insisted, "that I am veryparticular about my hair."

"My mistress was very particular about her hair," Mrs. Ellmotheranswered.

"Are you a good needlewoman?"

"As good as ever I was--with the help of my spectacles."

Francine turned to Emily. "See how well we get on together. Weare beginning to understand each other already. I am an oddcreature, Mrs. Ellmother. Sometimes, I take sudden likings topersons--I have taken a liking to you. Do you begin to think alittle better of me than you did? I hope you will produce theright impression on Miss Ladd; you shall have every assistancethat I can give. I will beg Miss Ladd, as a favor to me, not toask you that one forbidden question."

Poor Mrs. Ellmother, puzzled by the sudden appearance of Francinein the character of an eccentric young lady, the creature ofgenial impulse, thought it right to express her gratitude for thepromised interference in her favor. "That's kind of you, miss,"she said.

"No, no, only just. I ought to tell you there's one thing MissLadd is strict about--sweethearts. Are you quite sure," Francineinquired jocosely, "that you can answer for yourself, in thatparticular?"

This effort of humor produced its intended effect. Mrs.Ellmother, thrown off her guard, actually smiled. "Lord, miss,what will you say next!"

"My good soul, I will say something next that is more to thepurpose. If Miss Ladd asks me why you have so unaccountablyrefused to be a servant again in this house, I shall take care tosay that it is certainly not out of dislike to Miss Emily."

"You need say nothing of the sort," Emily quietly remarked.

"And still less," Francine proceeded, without noticing theinterruption--"still less through any disagreeable remembrancesof Miss Emily's aunt."

Mrs. Ellmother saw the trap that had been set for her. "It won'tdo, miss," she said.

"What won't do?"

"Trying to pump me."

Francine burst out laughing. Emily noticed an artificial ring inher gayety which suggested that she was exasperated, rather thanamused, by the repulse which had baffled her curiosity once more.

Mrs. Ellmother reminded the merry young lady that the proposedarrangement between them had not been concluded yet. "Am I tounderstand, miss, that you will keep a place open for me in yourservice?"

"You are to understand," Francine replied sharply, "that I musthave Miss Ladd's approval before I can engage you. Suppose youcome to Brighton? I will pay your fare, of course."

"Never mind my fare, miss. Will you give up pumping?"

"Make your mind easy. It's quite useless to attempt pumping_you_. When will you come?"

Mrs. Ellmother pleaded for a little delay. "I'm altering mygowns," she said. "I get thinner and thinner--don't I, MissEmily? My work won't be done before Thursday."

"Let us say Friday, then," Francine proposed.

"Friday!" Mrs. Ellmother exclaimed. "You forget that Friday is anunlucky day."

"I forgot that, certainly! How can you be so absurdlysuperstitious."

"You may call it what you like, miss. I have good reason to thinkas I do. I was married on a Friday--and a bitter bad marriage itturned out to be. Superstitious, indeed! You don't know what myexperience has been. My only sister was one of a party ofthirteen at dinner; and she died within the year. If we are toget on together nicely, I'll take that journey on Saturday, ifyou please."

"Anything to satisfy you," Francine agreed; "there is theaddress. Come in the middle of the day, and we will give you yourdinner. No fear of our being thirteen in number. What will youdo, if you have the misfortune to spill the salt?"

"Take a pinch between my finger and thumb, and throw it over myleft shoulder," Mrs. Ellmother answered gravely. "Good-day,miss."

"Good-day."

Emily followed the departing visitor out to the hall. She hadseen and heard enough to decide her on trying to break off theproposed negotiation--with the one kind purpose of protectingMrs. Ellmother against the pitiless curiosity of Francine.

"Do you think you and that young lady are likely to get on welltogether?" she asked.

"I have told you already, Miss Emily, I want to get away from myown home and my own thoughts; I don't care where I go, so long asI do that." Having answered in those words, Mrs. Ellmother openedthe door, and waited a while, thinking. "I wonder whether thedead know what is going on in the world they have left?" shesaid, looking at Emily. "If they do, there's one among them knowsmy thoughts, and feels for me. Good-by, miss--and don't thinkworse of me than I deserve."

Emily went back to the parlor. The only resource left was toplead with Francine for mercy to Mrs. Ellmother.

"Do you really mean to give it up?" she asked.

"To give up--what? 'Pumping,' as that obstinate old creaturecalls it?"

Emily persisted. "Don't worry the poor old soul! Howeverstrangely she may have left my aunt and me her motives are kindand good--I am sure of that. Will you let her keep her harmlesslittle secret?"

"Oh, of course!"

"I don't believe you, Francine!"

"Don't you? I am like Cecilia--I am getting hungry. Shall we havesome lunch?"

"You hard-hearted creature!"

"Does that mean--no luncheon until I have owned the truth?Suppose _you_ own the truth? I won't tell Mrs. Ellmother that youhave betrayed her."

"For the last time, Francine--I know no more of it than you do.If you persist in taking your own view, you as good as tell me Ilie; and you will oblige me to leave the room."

Even Francine's obstinacy was compelled to give way, so far asappearances went. Still possessed by the delusion that Emily wasdeceiving her, she was now animated by a stronger motive thanmere curiosity. Her sense of her own importance imperativelyurged her to prove that she was not a person who could bedeceived with impunity.

"I beg your pardon," she said with humility. "But I mustpositively have it out with Mrs. Ellmother. She has been morethan a match for me--my turn next. I mean to get the better ofher; and I shall succeed."

"I have already told you, Francine--you will fail."

"My dear, I am a dunce, and I don't deny it. But let me tell youone thing. I haven't lived all my life in the West Indies, amongblack servants, without learning something."

"What do you mean?"

"More, my clever friend, than you are likely to guess. In themeantime, don't forget the duties of hospitality. Ring the bellfor luncheon."