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At dessert, rather to my surprise, the children came into the room as had always been their custom, whenever I dined with their stepmother.

The boy appeared to be in his usual spirits; but the girl was a little pale and depressed. They both had become very friendly with me, and I often brought them boxes of sweets: so they now sat down, one on each side of me, and I noticed that the girl seated herself very carefully on the edge of her chair. No doubt her poor little bottom was still very tender. I filled their plates with fruit, and began to talk to them; but Dora was not at all in her usual form. So just out of mischief, and to hear what they would say, I said: “Have you been good children to-day?”

Dora coloured, and cast down her eyes in silence. Frances, and Miss Martin smiled. But Robert blurted out in childlike innocence: “No; we have not been good. We have been naughty; and Mamma gave us both a whipping. I did not scream, but Dora did.”

Dora blushed very red; her modesty was offended at my being told that she had been whipped. Turning to her brother, she exclaimed angrily: “You horrid boy! You may tell people that you have been whipped, if you like; but you have no business to say anything about me.” She then ran out of the room, with flashing eyes and flaming cheeks.

The boy looked astonished, and we all laughed; the governess saying: “Robert, you should never tell tales out of school.”

He was soon sent to join his sister; then the ladies and myself went into the drawing-room, where we passed a couple of hours pleasantly with music and conversation, Then I went home to my chambers, and after I had smoked a cigar, and drunk a glass of whisky and water, I retired to my virtuous couch, thoroughly well pleased with my day’s amusements.

I stayed in town for three more weeks, visiting Frances frequently; but I never had the pleasure of seeing Dora’s pretty little bottom; as ever since the day she had been birched in company with her brother, she had behaved so well, that her stepmother never had reason to rum her up.

On leaving London I went to Scotland, where I remained for upwards of a month grouse-shooting with various friends; and on my return to England, I went to Oakhurst, where I settled down for the winter, amusing myself in the usual way; hunting, shooting, dining out, and giving dinner parties in return. Whenever I felt inclined for an afternoon poke, I could always get hold of Mary, the pretty parlourmaid: all I had to do was to give her a wink, then she-would slip quietly up to my bedroom, and wait there till I came.

I also used often to run up to town for a couple of days to see Frances. And so the time went on.

XVIII

drifting apart.-the story of miss martin.-a craze for photography.-frances and the governness taking each other’s photograph naked.-a little sapphic game.-widows’ confidences.-a naked waltz.-birching reminiscences.-the bet and the fustigation.-a dozen cuts in silence.-peeping tom and the finale.

The winter and spring passed. It was again midsummer, and I was living in London for the season. Frances had now been settled in her house for a year; and as her liaison with me was not known to anyone; and as she was young, handsome, and comparatively rich, she had made a number of friends and acquaintances of both sexes. She went out a great deal, and she occasionally gave a dinner party; moreover she had a regular “afternoon,” which was always well attended; for Mrs. Markham had got the reputation-a well-deserved one-of being a pleasant and amusing hostess. She had many admirers, of all sorts and conditions: some of them needy fortune-hunters, who wanted to marry her for the sake of her money; while others were men who wanted to marry her for the sake of her beautiful face and splendid figure. I felt very sure that she would marry again, sooner or later; but so far she had not shown any preference for any man in particular. She and I were still very good friends; she always appeared glad to see me whenever I called, she told me everything that happened to her, and she consulted me about her affairs; moreover, she let me poke her whenever I wished to do so. Therefore, as I knew that no other man touched her, I was quite content to “lay low,” and watch the game that was going on all round me. The boy had been sent to a boarding-school; but the girl remained at home under the tuition of Miss Martin. She occasionally misbehaved, and whenever she did, she got a sound birching in the drawing-room, from her stepmother, who always took care to let me know the hour at which the punishment was to be inflicted; and I never failed to be behind the curtains. Dora was now over thirteen years-and-a-half old: she had grown a little, and her beautiful, white bottom was bigger and plumper. But she was still a great coward whenever she came under the rod; always screaming, kicking up her heels, and begging for mercy, from the first cut to the last. I liked seeing her being whipped!

The summer wore on: Frances, with Miss Martin, and Dora, went down to Eastbourne; while I started off to Norway on a fishing excursion; but I did not get much sport, as it was too late in the season. However, I enjoyed my tour very much, as I had never been in Norway before. I liked driving in the carioles from place to place; and I admired the magnificent scenery of the fiords; though I was disappointed with the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired damsels. Many of them were pretty, but they did not appear to have any fun in them; and the few that I poked were great big cold creatures who lay like logs under me, hardly even moving their broad fat bottoms at the supreme moment.

Frances and I got back to London about the same time; and things went on between us pretty much as before. She always had numbers of invitations, but she kept herself disengaged one night in the week, so that I might dine quietly with her and Miss Martin. On those occasions we were always merry at the table, and when the meal was over and we had gone into the drawing-room, Frances would sit beside me in a corner-while Miss Martin played the piano-and tell me what she had been doing with herself since she had last seen me: and she would frequently ask my advice on various matters. But for all that, I had an idea that she was keeping something back, and that we were gradually drifting apart.

After all, I was getting on for forty-five years of age; and she had younger admirers, any one of whom would marry her.

I never said a word; knowing that in due course of time, she would tell me everything. And I could see that she had already begun to look upon me more in the light of a guardian than a lover; though she still seemed to enjoy the pokes I gave her. She and Miss Martin had become great friends; but I know that Frances never told her true story to the governess; nor did that lady ever find out that I was carrying on an intrigue with her employer.

Miss Martin had however told her story to Frances, who related it to me one day. It was a very ordinary story; without the least touch of romance. I will give it here.

The governess was a married woman. Martin was her maiden name. She was the daughter of a poor person in Devonshire; and she had been married when she was twenty years of age, to a man who was cashier of a large bank in Plymouth; and who had a good salary. The marriage had turned out badly; her husband took to gambling and betting, and he lost a great deal of money; then he became a drunkard, and ill-treated her: finally he embezzled money belonging to the bank; and to avoid arrest he fled the country; leaving her penniless, after three wretched years of married life. Fortunately there were no children. Her father and mother were dead, and she had no rich relatives to assist her. But as she was well educated, and could get testimonials as to her character, she turned governess, and had supported herself ever since her husband had left her. She had never heard from him; and she did not know whether he was alive or dead. Frances also informed me that Miss Martin had confided to her, that she-had never been embraced by any man but her husband, and that she had been longing for an embrace ever since he had left her.