E. Delafield - The Collected Works of E. M. Delafield (Illustrated Edition)

The inference that her visit was to be of an indeterminate length alarmed Zella, and she said hastily:

"Oh, but, Aunt Marianne, I expect I shall be back at Villetswood before so very long. I've been here nearly three months, and I think papa will want me back soon."

Mrs. Lloyd-Evans saw the opening for which she had been waiting.

"Dear child, you are quite right to think of that, of course, but papa won't want you back just yet. It was quite arranged that you were to stay with us for a long visit, and I expect it will be more or less of a permanent one. You know how glad we are to have you."

"But, Aunt Marianne "Zella was scarlet from dismay and a sort of fear.

"You see, dear, things aren't quite the same now. A gentleman cannot very well look after a little girl, and, besides, it would be very lonely for you at Villetswood. Papa might, of course, find a good governess for you, and leave you there under her care while he went abroad, as he so frequently does," interpolated Mrs. Lloyd-Evans rather resentfully; "but I do not think that is very likely. In fact, I know that his real wish is to leave you under my care for a year or two."

The foundation for this statement was not very apparent even to Mrs. Lloyd-Evans herself, but she found ample justification for it in the knowledge that gentlemen did not always quite understand what was most suitable.

"But," said Zella faintly, "he said I should go back to him in a little while."

"Yes, dear, and I'm sure he would let you do so if you wished to. But you are quite happy with us, aren't you, Zella ?" said Aunt Marianne very kindly indeed.

Zella could have burst into tears. It was constitutionally impossible to her to tell Aunt Marianne, when she spoke so kindly, that she was not happy at Boscombe, in spite of all that was being done for her.

She felt herself a craven and a traitor when she thought of her already written letter to her father, but Zella was morally unable to make any further reply than a rather quavering:

"Yes, Aunt Marianne."

"That's right, dear. Besides, don't you think it would be rather unkind to worry poor papa just now, when he is so glad to think that you are good and happy here? You see, it is very hard tor a gentleman to have to make arrangements for a little girl, and if you make difficulties it will bring his sad loss home to him more than ever. You understand, I know, darling."

"Oh yes."

"Write him nice cheerful letters, then—won't you, dear ?—and let him see that you are contented and happy."

Zella felt as though her aunt must have seen through the letter-box and the envelope it contained, to the letter inside. But she choked out another "Yes."

Mrs. Lloyd-Evans looked rather relieved, kissed Zella, and sent her upstairs again.

She was convinced that Louis de Kervoyou was quite unfitted to look after his daughter, and trusted that Providence would second her efforts to retain charge of Zella, or at the very least place her in a satisfactory school.

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ZELLA spent that day and the next in a characteristic agony of apprehension.

She thought that she had acted treacherously, and dreaded lest her Aunt Marianne should find it out. What if her father wrote from Villetswood to tell Aunt Marianne that Zella was unhappy under her charge, and wanted to come home at once? Or supposing he really thought, as Aunt Marianne said, that she was better at Boscombe, and wrote to say that she could not return to Villetswood for the present?

She suffered acutely in anticipating these and other varied replies to her appeal, before her father's letter actually arrived, by return of post.

"Ma Chèrie—Je compte venir passer 2 ou 3 jours chez ta tante, jeudi, si elle pent me recevoir. Sois tranquille; nous arrangerons la chose et tu feras comme tu voudra.—Ton pere qui t'aime."

Zella felt a rush of grateful tenderness at the old indulgent tone, which she had learnt to value as never before, in the well-regulated Lloyd-Evans household, from whence it was so conspicuously absent.

Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, beyond saying, with a heavy sigh, that it would remind one of those happy times that would never come back again, made no allusion to her brother-in-law's proposed visit in Zella's hearing.

But she said to her husband privately: "Henry, I hope poor Louis has no mad scheme for taking Zella back to Villetswood with him."

"Mad scheme ?" said Henry questioningly.

"Yes, dear. It would be terribly morbid and unnatural if he insisted on taking her to that big lonely house, full of sad memories and associations. of dear, dear Esmée; and I shall certainly tell him so, if he suggests anything of the sort."

"I don't suppose he will," Henry returned comfortably. "Probably only too glad to know she's so well and happy here.'

"One never can tell what foreigners may think," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans impressively, "even when it is one's own brother-in-law."

Beyond kissing Zella half a dozen times on both cheeks when he arrived, Louis de Kervoyou gave no glaring evidences of his foreignness until the morning after his arrival at Boscombe.

He had regained more of his habitual joviality of manner than his sister-in-law thought particularly suitable in the space of two months, and she told her husband, in a depressed tone of voice, that it seemed very probable that poor Louis would soon want to marry again.

Zella, finding the father who had spoilt and petted her all her life apparently returned to his kindly, merry self, was too thankful at finding herself in the old lighthearted atmosphere again, to make any allusion to the bereavement which she had learned to connect with hushed tones and a tearful solemnity.

It was a slight shock to her when her father mentioned her mother's name in a perfectly matter-of-fact manner in the course of conversation that evening, and Aunt Marianne winced so perceptibly that she felt almost obliged to draw in her breath with a little quick sound suggestive of pain. After that Louis de Kervoyou did not speak of his wife again, though he came upstairs and talked to Zella for a long while after she was in bed that evening. But he was very kind and affectionate, and obviously delighted to have her with him again.

Next morning he looked at the evidences of her toil with Miss Vincent, when Mrs. Lloyd-Evans directed her to fetch her books from the schoolroom and show papa how nicely she was getting on; but he did not seem greatly impressed, and merely observed:

"Tu n'as pas perdu ton français, petite, hein?"

"Certainly not," said her aunt in English. "Miss Vincent knows French thoroughly, and the children always speak it at meals."

He made a little courteous gesture of acknowledgment towards the governess. "I am very grateful to Miss Vincent," he said, smiling at her.

"You see, Louis, Zella really is very backward with her English, though, of course, she speaks French very nicely," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, giving Miss Vincent a quiet look which the governess rightly interpreted to mean that a conversation must now take place between Zella's father and her aunt, at which Zella was not meant to assist.

The governess accordingly sent her pupil up to the schoolroom with a brisk "Now run and put away your books, dear, and get ready for a walk," and herself followed the reluctant Zella out of the room.

But Zella's reluctance was merely on the general principles of annoyance at being told to "run," and dislike of being sent out of the room like a small child. She knew quite well what her father was about to say to Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, and felt no desire to witness her Aunt Marianne's reception of his tidings.

It was not without some humorous apprehension on the part of Louis de Kervoyou himself that he began:

"It has been more than good of you to take such care of the child, Marianne, and I only wish I could thank you sufficiently; but I know how gladly you've done it," he added hastily, forestalling a reference, which he felt to be imminent, to Mrs. Lloyd-Evans's dear, dear only sister.