“Dear girl,” she said, smiling, “do you miss him so much? Do not fret. Jonathan will be here at the end of the week,” and she patted my hand on the counterpane.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

As a winter bird hops from one bare branch to the next, now I could not alight in any one place or in any one activity for long—the House become suddenly a forest of confusion. That evening I remained in my room, claiming myself indisposed. But then, when I descended the next day, there sat Bart at the breakfast table, just as he sat every morning. Blushing, I turned right round and climbed the stairs back to my room, then unthinking, kept right on climbing—until I found myself stopped at the bottom of Miss Grange’s stairs. Nothing sounded from up above, no human voice or stirring, though far below I heard the unintelligible murmurs of my kind.

Late that morning, I heard footsteps, and when Bart appeared at the end of the servants’ hall, I watched his quiet approach and was calmed. Indeed, he did nothing, said nothing, save to come and sit on the floor below me, stretching his long legs out across the narrow hall. So together, we posted guard.

Three long days passed in silent, anxious vigilance. Dr. Bates paid a daily visit to Miss Grange’s room, and I watched him come and go, knowing by his careful, even answers to Mrs. French that the vibrant, troubled soul upstairs was dimming. And I wondered how I was best to do what she asked—several nights starting up from out of a deep sleep as if I heard her call.

Then, the very night before Jonathan was to arrive, at last I received a summons from Miss Grange. “Come. Please,” the note read in a shaky hand, and it was signed only “N. G.”

I took it through to Mama, who was undressing, and showed it to her. She shook her head, recognizing also the advanced state of weakness that the handwriting bespoke.

“Mama, shouldn’t we call for a doctor?”

Mama sucked at her lip, reflecting. “Surely Mrs. French knows best what Miss Grange must want or need. I trust she has been looked in on.”

“I am not certain of that at all, Mama.”

A hesitant look flew over Mama’s features, as if a thought had advanced and then retreated in the space of a breath.

“Maisie, I think it best not to interfere. But do go up and sit with Miss Grange for a little.”

I went up. Tapping at her door, I received no response, and so I quietly pushed it open.