“Where are you going?” Cornelia asked.
The girl looked at her and a dazed expression in her eyes gave her a look of desperation,
“I don’t know,” she answered dully, “the river, I think.”
It was as if the words were forced from her lips and then the horror of them was too much even for her to contemplate. With a little cry she put her hands over her face and her tears broke out afresh.
“You must not talk like that and you must not cry. Sit down, please. I can help you, I am sure of it,” Cornelia suggested.
The girl, as if in obedience to her command or because she was too weak to stand, sank down on the bench and crouched with her head bent and her tears shaking her whole body.
For the moment Cornelia said nothing, but waited for the paroxysm of weeping to stop. After a while it seemed as if the violence of it passed and the girl’s sobs grew quieter until gradually they ceased altogether.
“Do tell me what is distressing you,” she asked kindly. “You are from the country?”
“Yes, ma’am. I came to London about two months ago – ”
There was a pathetic little break at the end of the sentence.
“What part of the country did you come from?” Cornelia asked.
“From Worcestershire, ma’am. My father works there as a groom to Lord Coventry. I didn’t get on at home with my stepmother and it was decided I should get a job as housemaid in a gentleman’s house. Her Ladyship gave me a reference for I had worked at the Court for some years and I was so happy and proud to be on my own – ”
The girl’s voice trailed away as once again she fought for self-control.
“What happened?” Cornelia asked.
“It was the young gentleman, ma’am,” she answered. “He thought I was – pretty. He used to lie in wait for me on the stairs. I meant no harm – I swear to you I meant no harm – and then – the housekeeper saw us yesterday. She spoke to the Master when he came home and he turned me out there and then without any reference – I can’t go home, ma’am – and tell them what has – happened.”
“And the young gentleman?” Cornelia asked, “did he do nothing to help you?”
“He didn’t get a chance, ma’am. He was sent away last night to stay with his relations in Scotland – I heard that he was going when the orders came for the butler to pack for him – but I didn’t realise it was because of me – not until the Master told me that he was gone and turned me out of the house.”
“But that was cruel and unjust,” Cornelia cried.
“No, ma’am, I wasn’t doin’ the right thing and – I knew it. He shouldn’t have been spending his time with the likes of me – but I loved him, ma’am – oh, I did love him – ”
The words came out with a wail of despair and looking at the girl’s trembling lips and the tightness of her clenched hands, Cornelia could only feel overwhelmingly sorry for her. She was pretty despite the ravages that her misery and tears had made on her face.
She had brown eyes and brown hair that curled over her ears and round her forehead. There was freshness and a sweetness about her and Cornelia could understand how a young gentleman, bored with the girls of his own class, had found himself interested in the new and attractive face to be seen in the corridors of his home.
It was wrong, it was bound to end in tragedy and yet the only real sufferer was this girl from the country, an unsophisticated child who had lost her heart to a man who had found her an amusing plaything.
“You say you cannot go home?” Cornelia asked.
“Oh, ma’am, how can I? Everyone was so kind when I left. The servants at the Court gave me a present and the Vicar a Bible. My father paid for my fare to London and bought me a new coat. I’d be ashamed to tell them what happened and my stepmother never liked me. If I went back now, she’d see to it that I never had another chance. No, ma’am, I’d rather die, far – far rather!”
“It is wicked to talk of taking your life,” Cornelia said sternly, “besides, you are young – you will find something else to do.”
“There’s no respectable house as will take me in without a reference,” the girl answered.
Cornelia sat and wondered what she should do. It was no use giving this girl money for, if she was to live alone, it was obvious that more and even worse trouble could come to her.
It was not the sort of story that she could tell to anyone else and ask their help. Neither her aunt or uncle would be sympathetic nor would they be willing to assist someone whom she had met in such unusual circumstances.
Then an idea came to Cornelia.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Violet, ma’am – Violet Walters.”
“Well, listen to me, Violet, I will engage you as my lady’s maid.”
“No, ma’am, I can’t let you do that!” Violet cried. “I am not experienced enough – and besides, you know nothin’ about me except what I told you and that’s not to my good.”
“I am sorry for you and I like you,” Cornelia replied. “We all make mistakes in our lives but you have been punished for yours while others often seem to get off scot-free. I want you to come to me, will you?”
The girl lifted her face and stared at Cornelia. She saw the dawning hope in the tired eyes. Then, with a little sob, Violet turned her head away.
“You’re ever so kind, ma’am, but it wouldn’t be right for me to take advantage of your kindness. The Master said I was a bad lot and perhaps he’s right. It was wrong of me to so much as lift my eyes to the young Master – I knew it and yet I did what was wrong – because – ”
“ – because you loved him,” Cornelia finished.
“Yes, that’s true. I loved him, but that sort of love is no good to a girl, ma’am. I should have cut it out of my heart, had I done what was right, but somehow – it was there all of a sudden like and there was nothing I could do it about it except – go on lovin’ him.”
Cornelia sat very still. She was looking across the water. So that was how love came to one, she thought, suddenly, before one was aware of it, creeping into one’s heart like a thief in the night.
She felt a sudden ecstasy inside her, a weird feeling as if something within herself was opening, shining and beautiful and then, even as she shrank from the glory of the revelation, she knew the truth.
Love had come to her, even as it had come to poor unhappy Violet. It was there and it was too late now to do anything about it.
Impulsively she turned to the girl at her side.
“Forget the past Violet,” she said. “I will help you and I want you to help me. Now, listen to me carefully while I
