"I did tell Lady Temple," said Alison; "I never think it right not to
let people know what sort of person they have to teach their children."
And Grace, on feeling her way, discovered that Lady Temple had been told
the bare fact in Miss Williams's reserved and business-like manner, but
with nothing of the affair that had led to it. She merely looked on it
in the manner fully expressed by--"Ah, poor thing; how sad for her!"
as a shocking secret, never to be talked of or thought about. And that
voluntary detailed relation from Alison could only be regarded as drawn
forth by Grace's own individual power of winning confidence, and the
friendliness that had so long subsisted between them. Nor indeed was the
reserve regarding the cause of the present reduced circumstances of the
sisters at all lessened; it was only known that their brother had ruined
them by a fraudulent speculation, and had then fled to the Continent,
leaving them burthened with the maintenance of his child, but that they
refused to believe in his guilt, and had thus incurred the displeasure
of other relatives and friends. Alison was utterly silent about him.
Ermine seemed to have a tender pleasure in bringing in a reference to
his ways as if all were well, and it were a matter of course to speak of
"Edward;" but it was plain that Ermine's was an outspoken nature. This
might, however, be only because the one had been a guarded, sheltered
invalid, while the other had gone forth among strangers to battle for
a livelihood, and moreover, the elder sister had been fully grown and
developed before the shock which had come on the still unformed Alison.
At any rate, nobody but Grace "got on" with the governess, while the
invalid made friends with all who visited her, and most signally with
Rachel, who, ere long, esteemed her environment a good work, worthy of
herself. The charity of sitting with a twaddling, muffatee-knitting old
lady was indisputable, but it was perfectly within Grace's capacity; and
Rachel believed herself to be far more capable of entertaining the sick
Miss Williams, nor was she mistaken. When excited or interested, most
people thought her oppressive; but Ermine Williams, except when unwell,
did not find her so, and even then a sharp debate was sometimes a cure
for the nervous ailments induced by the monotony of her life. They
seemed to have a sort of natural desire to rub their minds one against
the other, and Rachel could not rest without Miss Williams's opinion of
all that interested her--paper, essay, book, or event; but often, when
expecting to confer a favour by the loan, she found that what was new
to her was already well known in that little parlour, and even the
authorship no mystery. Ermine explained this by her correspondence with
literary friends of her brother's, and country-bred Rachel, to whom
literature was still an oracle unconnected with living agencies,
listened, yes, absolutely listened to her anecdotes of sayings and
doings, far more like clever memoirs than the experiences of the banks
of the Avon. Perhaps there was this immediate disadvantage, that hearing
of a more intellectual tone of society tended to make Rachel less
tolerant of that which surrounded her, and especially of Mr. Touchett.
It was droll that, having so long shunned the two sisters under the
impression that they were his protegees and worshippers, she found that
Ermine's point of view was quite the rectorial one, and that to venerate
the man for his office sake was nearly as hard to Ermine as to herself,
though the office was more esteemed.