At dinner that evening the child found her company dull and brusque. It
was uncommonly slow. She could get nothing from her governess but
monosyllables, and the jolly Charley actually snubbed the various cheery
openings of his "little chum"--as he used to call her at times,--but not
at that time. No doubt the couple were nervous and preoccupied. For all
this we have evidence, and for the fact that Flora being offended with
the delightful nephew of her profoundly respected governess sulked
through the rest of the evening and was glad to retire early. Mrs.,
Mrs.--I've really forgotten her name--the governess, invited her nephew
to her sitting-room, mentioning aloud that it was to talk over some
family matters. This was meant for Flora to hear, and she heard
it--without the slightest interest. In fact there was nothing
sufficiently unusual in such an invitation to arouse in her mind even a
passing wonder. She went bored to bed and being tired with her long ride
slept soundly all night. Her last sleep, I won't say of innocence--that
word would not render my exact meaning, because it has a special meaning
of its own--but I will say: of that ignorance, or better still, of that
unconsciousness of the world's ways, the unconsciousness of danger, of
pain, of humiliation, of bitterness, of falsehood. An unconsciousness
which in the case of other beings like herself is removed by a gradual
process of experience and information, often only partial at that, with
saving reserves, softening doubts, veiling theories. Her unconsciousness
of the evil which lives in the secret thoughts and therefore in the open
acts of mankind, whenever it happens that evil thought meets evil
courage; her unconsciousness was to be broken into with profane violence
with desecrating circumstances, like a temple violated by a mad, vengeful
impiety. Yes, that very young girl, almost no more than a child--this
was what was going to happen to her. And if you ask me, how, wherefore,
for what reason? I will answer you: Why, by chance! By the merest