least hope of getting at that letter, if I make the
attempt in my own person. Mrs. Lecount has
poisoned the admiral's mind against me, and
Mr. Vanstone has given him a secret to keep
from me. If I wrote to him, he would not
answer my letter. If I went to his house, the
door would be closed in my face. I must find
my way into St. Crux as a stranger—I must be
in a position to look about the house,
unsuspected—I must be there with plenty of time
on my hands. All the circumstances are in
my favour, if I am received into the house
as a servant; and as a servant I mean to
go."
"But you are a lady, ma'am," objected Louisa,
in the greatest perplexity. "The servants at
St. Crux would find you out."
"I am not at all afraid of their finding me
out," said Magdalen. "I know how to disguise
myself in other people's characters more cleverly
than you suppose. Leave me to face the chances
of discovery—that is my risk. Let us talk of
nothing now, but what concerns you. Don't
decide yet whether you will, or will not, give me
the help I want. Wait, and hear first what the
help is. You are quick and clever at your needle.
Can you make me the sort of gown which it is
proper for a servant to wear—and can you alter
one of my best silk dresses, so as to make it fit
yourself—in a week's time?"
"I think I could get them done in a week,
ma'am. But why am I to wear——?"
"Wait a little, and you will see. I shall give
the landlady her week's notice to-morrow. In
the interval, while you are making the dresses,
I can be learning the parlour-maid's duties.
When the house-servant here has brought up
the dinner, and when you and I are alone in
the room—instead of your waiting on me, as
usual, I will wait on you. (I am quite serious;
don't interrupt me!) Whatever I can learn
besides, without hindering you, I will practise
carefully at every opportunity. When the week
is over, and the dresses are done, we will leave
this place, and go into other lodgings—you, as the
mistress; and I as the maid."
"I should be found out, ma'am," interposed
Louisa, trembling at the prospect before her.
"I am not a lady."
"And I am," said Magdalen, bitterly. "Shall
I tell you what a lady is? A lady is a woman
who wears a silk gown, and has a sense of her
own importance. I shall put the gown on your
back, and the sense in your head. You speak
good English—you are naturally quiet, and self-
restrained—if you can only conquer your timidity,
I have not the least fear of you. There
will be time enough, in the new lodging, for you
to practise your character, and for me to practise
mine. There will be time enough to make some
more dresses—another gown for me, and your
wedding-dress (which I mean to give you) for
yourself. I shall have the newspaper sent every
day. When the advertisement appears, I shall
answer it—in any name I can take on the spur of
the moment; in your name, if you like to lend it
to me—and when the housekeeper asks me for my
character I shall refer her to you. She will
see you in the position of mistress, and me in the
position of maid—no suspicion can possibly
enter her mind, unless you put it there. If you
only have the courage to follow my instructions,
and to say what I shall tell you to say, the interview
will be over in ten minutes."
"You frighten me, ma'am," said Louisa, still
trembling. "You take my breath away with
surprise. Courage! Where shall I find
courage?"
"Where I keep it for you," said Magdalen—
"in the passage-money to Australia. Look at
the new prospect which gives you a husband, and
restores you to your child—and you will find
your courage there."
Louisa's sad face brightened; Louisa's faint
heart beat quick. A spark of her mistress's
spirit flew up into her eyes, as she thought of the
golden future.
"If you accept my proposal," pursued
Magdalen, "you can be asked in church at once, if
you like. I promise you the money, on the day
when the advertisement appears in the
newspaper. The risk of the housekeeper's rejecting me,
is my risk—not yours. My good looks are sadly
gone off, I know. But I think I can still hold my
place against the other servants—I think I can
still look the parlour-maid whom Admiral
Bartram wants. There is nothing for you to fear in
this matter; I should not have mentioned it if
there had been. The only danger, is the danger
of my being discovered at St. Crux—and that
falls entirely on me. By the time I am in the
admiral's house, you will be married, and the
ship will be taking you to your new life."
Louisa's face, now brightening with hope, now
clouding again with fear, showed plain signs of
the struggle which it cost her to decide. She
tried to gain time; she attempted confusedly to
speak a few words of gratitude but her
mistress silenced her.
"You owe me no thanks," said Magdalen. "I
tell you again, we are only helping each other.
I have very little money, but it is enough for
your purpose, and I give it you freely. I have
led a wretched life; I have made others wretched
about me. I can't even make you happy,
except by tempting you to a new deceit. There!
there! it's not your fault. Worse women than
you are will help me, if you refuse. Decide
as you like—but don't be afraid of taking the
money. If I succeed, I shall not want it. If I
fail——"
She stopped; rose abruptly from her chair;
and hid her face from Louisa by walking away
to the fireplace.
"If I fail," she resumed, warming her foot
carelessly at the fender, "all the money in the
world will be of no use to me. Never mind
why—never mind Me—think of yourself. I
won't take advantage of the confession you have
made to me; I won't influence you against your
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