It was half an hour before Harriet descended to the library, where Richard had been awaiting her in all the throes of trepidation and uncertainty. On seeing her he became still more disturbed. She, quite at her ease, approached and tapped him lightly under the chin.
“Well,” she said, “what have you been doing since I left?”
He blushed and tried to reply, but an access of shyness strangled his voice. He was silent.
“Come, are you dumb?” No, miss ...”
“Well?”
“I – I did nothing at all.”
“Nothing at all! But that is unheard of. One must do something.”
The last words were accompanied by a gaze of such penetration that he shivered, his eyes involuntarily falling to the region of his genitals for assurance that there were no traces of his indulgence. Harriet’s shrewd gaze followed his.
“Come now,” she said, with a faint note of mockery in her clear, pleasant voice, “tell me what you have been doing. Begin at the beginning.”
She sat down, smoothing out her skirt, and taking his hands in hers she drew him close to her.
“I read – a little,” he said. “But...”
“But what?”
“I couldn’t read – very much ... Then I – I looked out of the window.”
“A praiseworthy occupation. And after that?”
He was deeply disturbed: the touch of the young woman’s soft hands, the contact of her knees distracted him without his knowing why.
“After that,” he mumbled, “I – I did nothing at all...”
“Perfect,” said Harriet. “You spend your time well. But you know all that is going to be changed from now on, don’t you? We shall begin our studies tomorrow, and you will work hard. Where is your room?”
He led her upstairs to it. It was only a few steps from her own. She cast a look of disapproval at the slight untidiness she saw there. “What is that jacket doing on the bed?” she said, pointing. “Hang it up at once.” He obeyed. As he opened his closet she saw his short nightgown hanging on the back of the door, and stepping forward she took it from its hook. “You will not need this any longer,” she announced. “From now on you will sleep without nightclothes.”
“Yes, miss,” he murmured.
“I shall come and see you here this evening, when you are in bed,” she said. “You say your prayers at bedtime?”
“No, miss ...”
“That is disgraceful. We will say them together in future, in my room.”
During the hours until dinner Harriet and Richard talked together in the library. Thus she learned, almost without his being aware of it, not only of the events of her pupil’s own life but the immediate history of his family; from a few naive remarks she also learned of Mr. Lovel’s addiction to pleasure and of the existence of his mistress.
The hour for dinner arrived. In her room the table was already set. Harriet seated herself with her back to the lamp, her face in shadow; opposite her the pale countenance of Richard was in the full light.
Bridget, the elderly cook-housekeeper, carried in the dishes and set them on the table with a sullen air; but she altered her manner at once on receiving a single glance from Harriet. This glance was so portentous that the old woman understood in that instant what her position in the household was henceforth to be, – and she grasped at the same time the fact that she had everything to gain by making herself Harriet’s subordinate. Her air at once became respectful, even obsequious.
The soup was served. Richard hungrily took a spoonful and was carrying it to his lips when Harriet leaned forward and stopped his hand. “What are you doing?”
“M – miss – I’m eating!” he stammered.
“And the Grace before meals? You never say Grace?”
“No, miss ... .”
“You will do so from now on. I shall say the words now, and you will remember them. Tomorrow you will say them yourself.”
His head lowered, he listened carefully while she spoke the benedicite. Only when she raised her own spoon did he venture to begin eating.
“You have often been in this room?” she said after a while.
“No, miss.”
“You will be from now on. When your work is insufficiently done in the daytime, you will make up the arrears here. And when you are to be punished, it will be in this room.”
A curious sensation of fear and fascination went through him as he heard these words and saw her beautiful grey eyes fixed on him; but which of these sentiments was uppermost he could not tell. Already he had felt his whole being profoundly disturbed by the personality of his governess, and now with this disturbance there was mixed a feeling of shuddering attraction towards her, a sense of fear at finding himself so absolutely subject to this young woman, and also something else, something indefinable but sweet, almost too sweet ... The meal was finished in silence.
Later, when he gained his room, it was with a feeling as if he had drunk some heady draught which made his head swim deliciously. A peculiar lassitude had invaded his whole body; as he undressed, the touch of his clothes slipping over his skin made him shiver, and as soon as he was between the cool sheets a feeling of profound languor made him relax his naked limbs with an exquisite sense of well-being. Instinctively he turned his face towards his pillow and curled himself into a ball, as if feeling the need of warmth and physical intimacy; then he closed his eyes, but without being able to fall asleep.
He had been in bed scarcely a quarter of an hour when, very softly, his door was half opened and then closed again; between these two operations Harriet had slipped into the room without making a sound. She carried a small lamp whose feeble light was further subdued by a heavy shade. On tiptoe she approached the bed and bent over.
The boy was lying on his back now, dozing, his eyes half-closed, lost in a reverie of the one subject that engrossed him; the arrival of Harriet Marwood in the house, and the new life he was entering; but now, thanks to his indulgence of the afternoon, the sensuality of his temperament was no longer aroused by such considerations, and the little penis lay soft and inert between his thighs ... All at once he felt the sheet and coverlet lifted from him; for an instant he felt himself bared to the hips, and then, just as swiftly, the covers were replaced.
He had not had time to utter a cry before he recognised his governess. He sat up in bed, shaken by a violent, indefinable fear; but Harriet’s hand was laid gently on his head.
“Do not be afraid, Richard,” she said softly. “I saw that you were not asleep, and I wished to make sure you were behaving yourself. You were, I see, – and all is as it should be. Lie down now, and go to sleep.”
He obeyed, stretching himself out, his hand crossed over his chest as if to contain the wild beating of his heart. It was then that he experienced
