"
She broke down, and dropping on the rug at my feet, hid her face in her
hands. It was plain that she was suffering acutely, and while I patted
her shoulder, I thought what a wonderful mistress Mrs. Vanderbridge must
be to have attached a servant to her so strongly.
"You must remember that I am a stranger in the house, that I scarcely
know her, that I've never even seen her husband," I said warningly, for
I've always avoided, as far as possible, the confidences of servants.
"But you look as if you could be trusted." The maid's nerves, as well as
the mistress's, were on edge, I could see. "And she needs somebody who
can help her. She needs a real friend--somebody who will stand by her no
matter what happens."
Again, as in the room downstairs, there flashed through my mind the
suspicion that I had got into a place where people took drugs or
drink--or were all out of their minds. I had heard of such houses.
"How can I help her? She won't confide in me, and even if she did, what
could I do for her?"
"You can stand by and watch. You can come between her and harm--if you
see it." She had risen from the floor and stood wiping her reddened eyes
on the napkin. "I don't know what it is, but I know it is there. I feel
it even when I can't see it."
Yes, they were all out of their minds; there couldn't be any other
explanation.
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