She appeared to shrink from being seated in her mistress's presence.
"Please to let me go to the window," she said; "the air will help me."
To the window she went, and struggled with the passionate self so
steadily kept under at other times; so obstinately conquered now. "What
did you wish to say to me?" she asked.
"You have surprised--you have perplexed me," Iris said. "I am at a loss
to understand how you discovered what seems to have passed between your
master and Mr. Vimpany. You don't surely mean to tell me that they
talked of their private affairs while you were waiting at table?"
"I don't tell lies, my lady," Fanny declared impulsively. "They talked
of nothing else all through the dinner."
"Before you!" Iris exclaimed.
There was a pause. Fear and shame confessed themselves furtively on the
maid's colourless face. Silently, swiftly, she turned to the door. Had
a slip of the tongue hurried her into the betrayal of something which
it was her interest to conceal? "Don't be alarmed," Iris said
compassionately; "I have no wish to intrude on your secrets."
With her hand on the door, Fanny Mere closed it again, and came back.
"I am not so ungrateful," she said, "as to have any secrets from You.
It's hard to confess what may lower me in your good opinion, but it
must be done. I have deceived your ladyship--and I am ashamed of it. I
have deceived the doctor--and I glory in it. My master and Mr. Vimpany
thought they were safe in speaking French, while I was waiting on them.
I know French as well as they do."
Iris could hardly believe what she heard. "Do you really mean what you
say?" she asked.
"There's that much good in me," Fanny replied; "I always mean what I
say."
"Why did you deceive me? Why have you been acting the part of an
ignorant woman?"
"The deceit has been useful in your service," the obstinate maid
declared. "Perhaps it may be useful again."
"Was that what you were thinking of," Iris said, "when you allowed me
to translate English into French for you, and never told me the truth?"
"At any rate, I will tell you the truth, now. No: I was not thinking of
you, when you wrote my errands for me in French--I was thinking again
of some advice that was once given to me."