-vitah-yah!_ That's Italian, Carmina." The door
opened again while the performer was in full vigour--and Miss Minerva
appeared.
When she entered the room, Carmina at once saw that Zo had correctly
observed her governess. Miss Minerva's heavy eyebrows lowered; her lips
were pale; her head was held angrily erect, "Carmina!" she said sharply,
"you shouldn't encourage that child." She turned round, in search of the
truant pupil. Incurably stupid at her lessons, Zo's mind had its gleams
of intelligence, in a state of liberty. One of those gleams had shone
propitiously, and had lighted her out of the room.
Miss Minerva took a chair: she dropped into it like a person worn out
with fatigue. Carmina spoke to her gently. Words of sympathy were thrown
away on that self-tormenting nature.
"No; I'm not ill," she said. "A night without sleep; a perverse child to
teach in the morning; and a detestable temper at all times--that's
what is the matter with me." She looked at Carmina. "You seem to be
wonderfully better to-day. Has stupid Mr. Null really done you some good
at last?" She noticed the open writing-desk, and discovered the letter.
"Or is it good news?"
"I have heard from Ovid," Carmina answered. The photograph was still in
her hand; but her inbred delicacy of feeling kept the portrait hidden.
The governess's sallow complexion turned little by little to a dull
greyish white. Her hands, loosely clasped in her lap, tightened when she
heard Ovid's name. That slight movement over, she stirred no more. After
waiting a little, Carmina ventured to speak. "Frances," she said, "you
have not shaken hands with me yet." Miss Minerva slowly looked up,
keeping her hands still clasped on her lap.
"When is he coming back?" she asked. It was said quietly.
Carmina quietly replied, "Not yet--I am sorry to say."
"I am sorry too."
"It's good of you, Frances, to say that."
"No: it's not good of me. I'm thinking of myself--not of you." She
suddenly lowered her tone. "I wish you were married to him," she said.
There was a pause. Miss Minerva was the first to speak again.
"Do you understand me?" she asked.
"Perhaps you will help me to understand," Carmina answered.
"If you were married to him, even my restless spirit might be at peace.
The struggle would be over."
She left her chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. The
passionate emotion which she had resolutely suppressed began to get
beyond her control.
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