Women Have Hearts. Barbara Cartland

      As Mrs. Gladwin stepped into the room, it was so unexpected and in a way so unusual that for several perceptible seconds Yvette forgot to rise from her chair.

      Mrs. Gladwin was, however, glaring at Kelda.

      “I had a suspicion I might find you here, Kelda,” she began. “As I have told you before, I will not have you gossiping in the young ladies’ rooms, which is neither proper nor in the sphere of your duties. If you have nothing better to do, I will certainly find you something.”

      “As Mademoiselle was so very upset today,” Kelda said in her soft voice, “I brought her something warm to drink, knowing that it was in a way a medication.”

      “If Yvette needs one, I will send for the physician,” Mrs. Gladwin said automatically.

      She then looked sharply at Yvette.

      “I presume,’ she said, “you have been crying again and making a quite unnecessary fuss about your uncle’s plans for your future.”

      As she was already so overwrought, the tears gathered again in Yvette’s eyes and Mrs. Gladwin rattled on,

      “You must learn to control yourself. As I have told you so often, self-control comes from being civilised and properly educated.”

      Yvette did not reply and, as she was searching for her handkerchief in the belt of her gown, two tears rolled down her cheeks.

      “I have been thinking over the difficulties of your reaching Dakar,” Mrs. Gladwin said. “That is why I have come to ask you once again if there is anyone you know in England who would be prepared to accompany you on this journey.”

      “I have already told you, Madam, I know of no one,” Yvette responded.

      “There is no Governess you have had in the past who would for a remuneration, a small one, of course, act as your chaperone?”

      “The Governess I had before I came here,” Yvette replied, “has a good position in Paris teaching the children of the Duc de Beauclaire. So I am quite certain she would be unable to come with me, even if she wanted to, which I very much doubt.”

      Mrs. Gladwin ignored the last words, which were obviously rude and stood in the centre of the small bedroom thinking.

      Kelda would have so liked to inch past her and reach the door, but she had a feeling it would only bring more wrath down upon her head.

      She therefore stood where she was, hoping that she could fade into the background and not draw any unnecessary attention to herself.

      “Very well,” Mrs. Gladwin said, at last as if she had finally made up her mind, “if that is actually the position, the only thing I can do is to send Kelda with you.”

      She paused for a moment, ignoring the startled expressions on both Yvette’s and Kelda’s faces and went on,

      “Of course being a ‘charity child’ she is nothing more than a servant and she can act in the capacity of your lady’s maid as well as keeping you constantly in her sight.”

      There was still no response from either of the two girls and she went on as if to herself,

      “I shall send a letter at once to the Steamship Company explaining your circumstances and I am quite certain that your uncle’s name will carry great weight with them so there will be no difficulty about your having the best possible attention.”

      She paused before she continued,

      “I shall also ask if there are any respectable English people on board. The Steamship authorities will, I believe, as they do in the case of ladies travelling to India, invite one of the lady passengers to keep an eye on you and act as your official chaperone until you do reach Dakar.”

      Yvette found her voice eventually.

      “I shall be – all right with – Kelda.”

      “That is what I hope, although I am none too confident of her capabilities in looking after herself, let alone you,” Mrs. Gladwin retorted. “But I am certain, yes, I am quite certain that there will be someone on board you can be entrusted to once the ship has left Southampton. I shall take you on board myself so that your uncle will have no reason to worry about you.”

      Mrs. Gladwin stopped speaking to look at Kelda’s wide eyes and pale face.

      “As for you, Kelda,” she insisted, “if you fail the charge I have put upon you, if you are unworthy of my trust, I can assure you that you will never darken the doors of this house ever again!”

      Mrs. Gladwin did not wait for any reply, but she merely turned with a rustling of her silk petticoats.

      “Go to bed, Yvette and say a prayer of gratitude to God that you have somebody like myself to take care of you, who has your best interests at heart.”

      Mrs. Gladwin left the room.

      For a moment neither Yvette nor Kelda moved.

      It was almost as if they had been turned into stone.

      Then Kelda, beneath her breath and in a voice that was barely above a whisper, said,

      “It is not – true. I could not have – heard what she said. I must be – dreaming.”

      “It is true,” Yvette answered, “although I can hardly believe it! And, Kelda, if anything could make the journey to my uncle bearable, it is knowing that you are coming with me. I shall say a prayer of gratitude all right, but only because without you I know that I should die of misery on the voyage.”