Chance - Page 67/275

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"--You understand," Marlow interrupted the current of his narrative,

"that in order to be consecutive in my relation of this affair I am

telling you at once the details which I heard from Mrs. Fyne later in the

day, as well as what little Fyne imparted to me with his usual solemnity

during that morning call. As you may easily guess the Fynes, in their

apartments, had read the news at the same time, and, as a matter of fact,

in the same august and highly moral newspaper, as the governess in the

luxurious mansion a few doors down on the opposite side of the street.

But they read them with different feelings. They were thunderstruck.

Fyne had to explain the full purport of the intelligence to Mrs. Fyne

whose first cry was that of relief. Then that poor child would be safe

from these designing, horrid people. Mrs. Fyne did not know what it

might mean to be suddenly reduced from riches to absolute penury. Fyne

with his masculine imagination was less inclined to rejoice extravagantly

at the girl's escape from the moral dangers which had been menacing her

defenceless existence. It was a confoundedly big price to pay. What an

unfortunate little thing she was! "We might be able to do something to

comfort that poor child at any rate for the time she is here," said Mrs.

Fyne. She felt under a sort of moral obligation not to be indifferent.

But no comfort for anyone could be got by rushing out into the street at

this early hour; and so, following the advice of Fyne not to act hastily,

they both sat down at the window and stared feelingly at the great house,

awful to their eyes in its stolid, prosperous, expensive respectability

with ruin absolutely standing at the door.

By that time, or very soon after, all Brighton had the information and

formed a more or less just appreciation of its gravity. The butler in

Miss de Barral's big house had seen the news, perhaps earlier than

anybody within a mile of the Parade, in the course of his morning duties

of which one was to dry the freshly delivered paper before the fire--an

occasion to glance at it which no intelligent man could have neglected.

He communicated to the rest of the household his vaguely forcible

impression that something had gone d---bly wrong with the affairs of "her

father in London."

This brought an atmosphere of constraint through the house, which Flora

de Barral coming down somewhat later than usual could not help noticing

in her own way. Everybody seemed to stare so stupidly somehow; she

feared a dull day.