278
THE OLD STONE MANSION.
“Do you believe it?” and I looked at her
keenly.
“I sometimes think he may be a gambler, or some such thing,” she answered, a little embar¬ rassed. “He don’t act the real gentleman, now does he, Maggy?”
“I don’t think he does.”
“He hasn’t the manner of Arthur. Few have.”
“No. He hasn’t Mr. Despenoer’s manner.”
“I sometimes wish Arthur was not so inti¬ mate with him. I wonder if they ever play.”
“I hope not,” I said, for I saw how distressed the idea made her; and to divert her thoughts, I added, “By-the-bye, where does Mr. Bentley sleep, when he comes here?”
Georgians laughed. I had not heard her laugh so gleefully since she was a child.
“I’m sure I don’t know. I’m keeping house, and don’t know where my guests sleep—isn’t it fbnny? Arthur told me, I remember now, not to trouble myself about it, for that old Jane would settle it all: and I never did trouble myself.” And she laughed again.
The conversation ceased here, but as we sat at the tea-table, that night, Georgiana suddenly looked up, and said to Mr. Despencer,
“Arthur, where does Mr. Bentley Bleep, when he comes here?”
Her husband had his cup raised to his lips, in the very act of drinking. He paused, and looked keenly at me, as if divining where the question originated.
“You don’t answer me,” said Georgiana. “And why do you stare so at Maggy ?”
“Excuse me. I had not heard you. I wasn’t aware I was staring at anybody. What was it you asked?”
I knew well enough that he had heard her. But Georgians, completely deceived, repeated the question.
“Oh! in the front garret to be sure,” he an¬ swered, promptly. “Old Jane has the back one, you know.”
But I had been in the front garret, the morn¬ ing after Mr. Bentley’s first visit, and there was not an article of furniture in it, nor did it look as if anybody had slept on the floor. A tempo¬ rary couch, however, might have been arranged, and removed before I saw the room. Yet I half believed that the whole was an invention of Mr. Despencer’s, and that he had paused to get time to think what to say. I was entirely convinced of this, the day after this conversation, for, when I stole up to the garret, drawn thither by noises l had hoard after I retired, I found that a bed¬ stead, and a few other articles of chamber fur- niture, bad been arranged there; and as I recog- nized one or two of the chairs, which I had seen in Georgian a’s room, I knew that Mr. Despencer, to blind me, had caused the apartment to be fitted up.
i But why should he blind me? Why was there any necessity for a mystery ? My thoughts re- verted to the closed chamber. But even if that was where Mr. Bentley slept, why should there be any attempt to conceal it? What was the tie between him and Georgiana’s husband? It was 1 more than mere friendship, I felt assured. Did they share some dark and terrible Becret to- gether, with which, in some way, the closed chamber was connected?
I had resided with Georgiana about four s months, when Mr. Despencer said, one evening, that he had to visit a neighboring city, and would be gone for a week.
“I would like to take you, Georgy,” he said, addressing his wife, “if Miss Gray will keep house while we’re gone,”
s “Oh! I should bo delighted,” said my cousin, 5 for, poor child! any kindness from her husband almost set her wild.
s I thought immediately of Mr. Bentley, for he had been so marked in his attentions lately, and was so deficient, I believed, in a nice sense of s propriety, that I feared he would take advantage of this absence to annoy me more than ever, j But I hesitated to mention this, my only objec- tion to the proposed arrangement, for I saw how disappointed Georgiana would be. s “ May we count on your keeping house, then?” s said Mr. Despencer.
I still hesitated, but an appealing look from % Georgiana decided me, and I answered in the affirmative. I never saw a happier being than my cousin was, for the rest of that evening.
The next day, when Mr. Despencer had de-
> parted to the city, I frankly told Georgiana, she would oblige me, if Mr. Despenoer would hint to his friend, that, during their absence, he should
dispense with his visits to the mansion.
“Your husband can do it in a way to avoid offence,” I said, in conclusion, “and I don’t want to offend any of his friends.”
Georgiana promised, but added,
> “You don’t seem to like Mr. Bentley any better, I’m sorry to see.”
n “Do you like him better?”
She looked confused. I saw her husband hod been talking her over.
“Oh! yes. Arthur assures me, on his honor, that they never ploy; and Mr. Bentley is really very handsome and very polite.”
I made no answer. Georgiana went on.
