The Clever Woman of the Family [131]
in original and magnificent metaphors. Nor had the Colonel any anxieties in leaving the representatives of the three nations together while he went to attend his brother's wedding. He proposed that Tibbie should conduct Rose for the daily walk of which he had made a great point, thinking that the child did not get exercise enough, since she was so averse to going alone upon the esplanade that her aunt forbore to press it. She manifested the same reluctance to going out with Tibbie, and this the Colonel ascribed to her fancying herself too old to be under the charge of a nurse. It was trying to laugh her out of her dignity, but without eliciting an answer, when, one afternoon just as they were entering together upon the esplanade, he felt her hand tighten upon his own with a nervous frightened clutch, as she pressed tremulously to his side. "What is it, my dear? That dog is not barking at you. He only wants to have a stick thrown into the sea for him." "Oh not the dog! It was--" "Was, what?" "HIM!" gasped Rose. "Who?" inquired the Colonel, far from prepared for the reply, in a terrified whisper,-- "Mr. Maddox." "My dear child! Which, where?" "He is gone! he is past. Oh, don't turn back! Don't let me see him again." "You don't suppose he could hurt you, my dear." "No," hesitated Rose, "not with you." "Nor with any one." "I suppose not," said Rose, common sense reviving, though her grasp was not relaxed. "Would it distress you very much to try to point him out to me?" said the Colonel, in his irresistibly sweet tone. "I will. Only keep hold of my hand, pray," and the little hand trembled so much that he felt himself committing a cruel action in leading her along the esplanade, but there was no fresh start of recognition, and when they had gone the whole length, she breathed more freely, and said, "No, he was not there." Recollecting how young she had been at the time of Maddox's treason, the Colonel began to doubt if her imagination had not raised a bugbear, and he questioned her, "My dear, why are you so much afraid, of this person? What do you know about him?" "He told wicked stories of my papa," said Rose, very low. "True, but he could not hurt you. You don't think he goes about like Red Ridinghood's wolf?" "No, I am not so silly now." "Are you sure you know him? Did you often see him in your papa's house?" "No, he was always in the laboratory, and I might not go there." "Then you see, Rose, it must he mere fancy that you saw him, for you could not even know him by sight." "It was not fancy," said Rose, gentle and timid as ever, but still obviously injured at the tone of reproof. "My dear child," said Colonel Keith, with some exertion of patience, "you must try to be reasonable. How can you possibly recognise a man that you tell me you never saw?" "I said I never saw him in the house," said Rose with a shudder; "but they said if ever I told they would give me to the lions in the Zoological Gardens." "Who said so?" "He, Mr. Maddox and Maria," she answered, in such trepidation that he could scarcely hear her. "But you are old and wise enough now to know what a foolish and wicked threat that was, my dear." "Yes, I was a little girl then, and knew no better, and once I did tell a lie when mamma asked me, and now she is dead, and I can never tell her the truth." Colin dreaded a public outbreak of the sobs that heaved in the poor child's throat, but she had self-control enough to restrain them till he had led her into his own library, where he let her weep out her repentance for the untruth, which, wrested from her by terror, had weighed so long on her conscience. He felt that he was sparing Ermine something by receiving the first tempest of tears, in the absolute terror and anguish of revealing the secret that had preyed on her with mysterious horror. "Now tell me all about it, my dear little girl. Who was this Maria?" "Maria was my nurse when I lived at home. She used to take me out walking," said Rose, pressing closer to his protecting breast, and pausing