The Black Opal by Victoria Holt Page A

have sent me there, but for the doctor.”
    “The doctor is a very good and understanding man.”
    “Nanny thought I should go.”
    “But the doctor kept you, so it is not important what Nanny thinks.
    The point is that he wanted you to stay. “
    “Sally told me all about it. She remembers it well. She had just come at that time. She said she was afraid they would send me away, for the doctor didn’t have much say in what was to be done. Mrs. Marline didn’t want me either, and she is the one who counts.”
    “Well, the doctor had his way. He wanted you and that was what mattered. Your mother made a great sacrifice because she wanted the best for you, and you must not feel inferior in any way. You are going to show them all that you may have been found under that azalea bush, but you can do as well as any of them.”
    “I will, I will,” I said. And I felt as I did when Uncle Toby was there.
    And, like Adeline, I loved her.
    Nanny did not like the governess, of course. She was prejudiced against her from the start. She did not like governesses in households interfering with the children, and she was not going to change her mind. They gave themselves airs; they had too high an opinion of them selves; they thought themselves ‘a cut above’ the servants. So even the gentle-mannered Miss Carson could do nothing right for her.
    And, of course, Mrs. Barton was her staunch ally in this. Governesses were a nuisance. They had to have meals sent up to their rooms.
     
    Couldn’t eat with the servants, and, of course, they were not acceptable in the family. In any case, what was the family now, with Her in her room, demanding this and that, and Him sitting there alone and not a man to take much notice of what was put before him, in any case. It was a funny set-up, if you asked Mrs. Barton and not helped by having a governess in the house.
    Then there was always the overpowering presence of Mrs. Marline. The constant clanging of bells and the maids run off their feet.
    “Grumble, grumble,” said Mrs. Barton.
    “Morning, noon and night.”
    “She’d find fault with the Angel Gabriel himself,” declared Nanny.
    We used to hear the rumble of Mrs. Marline’s voice behind the closed doors when the doctor was with her. She was, of course, complaining.
    On and on it went, and then there would be a brief pause. We knew then that the doctor was trying to placate her, speaking in his soft, gentle voice.
    “Poor man,” said Sally.
    “Worn out, that’s what he is. Nag, nag, nag, and between you and me and the gate post, he’d be better off without her. She’s going to be an invalid all her life … and her going on like that, well, he’ll be the first in the grave, if you ask me. And don’t you dare mention what I’ve said.”
    I was sorry for the doctor. He was so gentle, and he looked very tired when he emerged from that room. He stayed in his own as much as he could, I was sure; and he seemed eager to get off to his surgery, and he stayed there longer than he did before, which I guessed was because he hated coming home to Mrs. Marline. As soon as he did come in, she would call out for him; and then the rumbling of the voices would begin.
    Annie Logan continued to come in the mornings and evenings, and she always stayed for a chat and tea; then there would be a lot of
    whispering in the kitchen with Nanny and Mrs. Barton. I tried to listen when I could, and it all seemed to be about Her and Him.
    I felt or perhaps I imagined I did afterwards that there was an uneasy tension in the house. Sometimes when Mrs. Marline had taken her pills because the pain was worse than usual, a stillness would descend on the house as though it were waiting for something to happen.
    Then it would change again, and we would hear the wheelchair going from one room to another, or Tom Yardley or the doctor wheeling it into the garden. We would all avoid going there when the chair was there.
    It was easy for me, because she had always ignored