Mrs. Milroy leaned back on her pillow in dead silence. The plain betrayal of her daughter's first love, by her daughter's own lips, which would have absorbed the whole attention of other mothers, failed to occupy her for a moment. Her jealousy, distorting all things to fit its own conclusions, was busied in distorting what she had just heard. "A blind," she thought, "which has deceived my girl. It doesn't deceive _me._ Is Miss Gwilt likely to succeed?" she asked, aloud. "Does Mr. Armadale show any sort of interest in her?"Neelie looked up at her mother for the first time. The hardest part of the confession was over now. She had revealed the truth about Miss Gwilt, and she had openly mentioned Allan's name.
"He shows the most unaccountable interest," she said. "It's impossible to understand it. It's downright infatuation. Ihaven't patience to talk about it!"
"How do _you_ come to be in Mr. Armadale's secrets?" inquired Mrs. Milroy. "Has he informed _you,_ of all the people in the world, of his interest in Miss Gwilt?""Me!" exclaimed Neelie, indignantly. "It's quite bad enough that he should have told papa."At the re-appearance of the major in the narrative, Mrs. Milroy's interest in the conversation rose to its climax. She raised herself again from the pillow. "Get a chair," she said. "Sit down, child, and tell me all about it. Every word, mind--every word!""I can only tell you, mamma, what papa told me.""When?"
"Saturday. I went in with papa's lunch to the workshop, and he said, 'I have just had a visit from Mr. Armadale; and I want to give you a caution while I think of it.' I didn't say anything, mamma; I only waited. Papa went on, and told me that Mr. Armadale had been speaking to him on the subject of Miss Gwilt, and that he had been asking a question about her which nobody in his position had a right to ask. Papa said he had been obliged, good-humoredly, to warn Mr. Armadale to be a little more delicate, and a little more careful next time. I didn't feel much interested, mamma; it didn't matter to _me_ what Mr. Armadale said or did. Why should I care about it?""Never mind yourself," interposed Mrs. Milroy, sharply. "Go on with what your father said. What was he doing when he was talking about Miss Gwilt? How did he look?""Much as usual, mamma. He was walking up and down the workshop;and I took his arm and walked up and down with him.""I don't care what _you_ were doing," said Mrs. Milroy, more and more irritably. "Did your father tell you what Mr. Armadale's question was, or did he not?""Yes, mamma. He said Mr. Armadale began by mentioning that he was very much interested in Miss Gwilt, and he then went on to ask whether papa could tell him anything about her family misfortunes--""What!" cried Mrs. Milroy. The word burst from her almost in a scream, and the white enamel on her face cracked in all directions. "Mr. Armadale said _that?_" she went on, leaning out further and further over the side of the bed.
Neelie started up, and tried to put her mother back on the pillow.
"Mamma!" she exclaimed, "are you in pain? Are you ill? You frighten me!""Nothing, nothing, nothing," said Mrs. Milroy. She was too violently agitated to make any other than the commonest excuse.
"My nerves are bad this morning; don't notice it. I'll try the other side of the pillow. Go on! go on!. I'm listening, though I'm not looking at you." She turned her face to the wall, and clinched her trembling hands convulsively beneath the bedclothes.
"I've got her!" she whispered to herself, under her breath. "I've got her at last!""I'm afraid I've been talking too much," said Neelie. "I'm afraid I've been stopping here too long. Shall I go downstairs, mamma, and come back later in the day?""Go on," repeated Mrs. Milroy, mechanically. "What did your father say next? Anything more about Mr. Armadale?""Nothing more, except how papa answered him," replied Neelie.
"Papa repeated his own words when he told me about it. He said, 'In the absence of any confidence volunteered by the lady herself, Mr. Armadale, all I know or wish to know--and you must excuse me for saying, all any one else need know or wish to know--is that Miss Gwilt gave me a perfectly satisfactory reference before she entered my house.' Severe, mamma, wasn't it?
I don't pity him in the least; he richly deserved it. The next thing was papa's caution to _me._ He told me to check Mr.
