The Clever Woman of the Family - Page 249/364

"Is it so nominated in the bond?"--Merchant of Venice.

Malgre her disinclination, Rachel had reached the point of recovery in

which the fresh air and change of scene of the drive to Avoncester could

not fail to act as restoratives, and the first evening with the Dean and

his gentle old sister was refreshing and comfortable to her spirits.

It was in the afternoon of the ensuing day that Mr. Grey came to tell

her that her presence would soon be required, and both her mother and

sister drove to the court with her. Poor Mrs. Curtis, too anxious to

go away, yet too nervous to go into court, chose, in spite of all Mr.

Grey's advice, to remain in the carriage with the blinds closed, far too

miserable for Grace to leave her.

Rachel, though very white, called up a heroic smile, and declared that

she should get on very well. Her spirit had risen to the occasion, so

as to brace her nerves to go becomingly through what was inevitable; and

she replied with a ready "yes," to Mr. Grey's repetition of the advice

for ever dinned into her ears, not to say a word more than needful,

feeling indeed little disposed to utter anything that she could avoid.

She emerged from the dark passage into full view of faces which were

far more familiar than she could have wished. She would have greatly

preferred appearing before a judge, robed, wigged, and a stranger, to

coming thus before a country gentleman, slightly known to herself, but

an old friend of her father, and looking only like his ordinary self.

All the world indeed was curious to see the encounter between Rachel

Curtis and her impostor, and every one who had contributed so much as

a dozen stamps to the F. U. E. E. felt as if under a personal wrong and

grievance, while many hoped to detect other elements of excitement, so

that though all did not overtly stare at the witness, not even the most

considerate could resist the impulse to glance at her reception of the

bow with which he greeted her entrance.

She bent her head instinctively, but there was no change of colour on

her cheek. Her faculties were concentrated, and her resolute will had

closed all avenues to sensations that might impair her powers; she would

not give way either to shame and remorse for herself, or to pity or

indignation against the prisoner; she would attend only to the accuracy

of the testimony that was required of her as an expiation of her

credulous incaution; but such was the tension of her nerves, that,

impassive as she looked, she heard every cough, every rustle of paper;

each voice that addressed her seemed to cut her ears like a knife; and

the chair that was given to her after the administration of the oath was

indeed much needed.