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If this meant anything, it meant that the reason which made papa keep Helena's age and my age unknown to everybody but himself, was also the reason why he seemed to be so strangely unwilling to let me be Philip's wife. I really could not endure to take such a view of it as that, and begged Miss Jillgall to drop the subject. She was as kind as ever. "With all my heart, dear.
"I wish to be quite mistress of myself," she explained; "your face, for some reason which I really don't know, irritates me. The fact is, I have great pride in keeping my temper. Please make allowances. Now about Miss Jillgall. I suppose she told you how my sister first met with Philip Dunboyne?" "Yes." "She also mentioned, perhaps, that he was a highly-cultivated man?" "She did."
However, after what he had said to me, I felt bound in filial duty to take the pages out of my book, and to let two days pass before I presumed to enjoy the luxury of hating Miss Jillgall. On one thing I am determined: Eunice shall not form a hasty opinion, either. She shall undergo the same severe discipline of self-restraint to which her sister is obliged to submit.
I tried to get to the door. She stopped me. She says: 'Where's Miss Eunice? I says: 'Gone out. She says: 'Is there anybody in the drawing-room? I says: 'No, miss. She says: 'Tell Miss Jillgall I want to speak to her, and say I am waiting in the drawing-room. It's every word of it true! And, if a poor servant may give an opinion, I don't like the look of it." The doctor dismissed Maria.
It was not to be denied that Miss Jillgall had discovered a good reason for writing to her friend; but I was at a loss to understand why she should have been so anxious to mention the reason. Was it possible after the talk which had passed between us that she had something mischievous to say in her letter, relating to my father or to me? Was she afraid I might suspect this?
Miss Jillgall looked shocked at my stupidity. She reminded me that there was a mystery in Mrs. Tenbruggen's letter and a mystery in papa's strange conduct toward Philip. "Put two and two together, darling," she said; "and, one of these days, they may make four."
Smothered in gowns, she bounced out of the room like a walking milliner's shop. I have to thank the wretched old creature for a moment of genuine amusement, at a time of devouring anxiety. The meanest insect, they say, has its use in this world and why not Miss Jillgall? In half an hour more, an unexpected event raised my spirits. I heard from Philip.
She had taken something for granted which was an unfathomable mystery to me. "Well," I objected, "if you did mention his name a dozen times excuse me for asking the question -what then?" "Good heavens!" cried Miss Jillgall, "do you mean to say you never guessed that Philip was Mr. Dunboyne's son?" I was petrified. His son! Dunboyne's son! How could I have guessed it?
Miss Jillgall burst out. "Oh, we will go with you!" Mrs. Tenbruggen's politeness added immediately, "With the greatest pleasure." My first ungrateful impulse was to get rid of the two cumbersome ladies who had offered to be my companions. It was needless to call upon my invention for an excuse; the truth, as I gladly perceived, would serve my purpose.
An act of justice is surely not the less praiseworthy because it is an act of justice done to one's self. My father has often told me that he revises his writings on religious subjects. I may harmlessly imitate that good example, by revising my restored entry. It is now a sufficiently remarkable performance to be distinguished by a title. Let me call it: Impressions of Miss Jillgall.
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