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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Head of the House of Coombe"

No, your grace,
she's not known those of her own age."
"She is--of the ignorance of a child," the Duchess thought it out
slowly.
"She thinks not, poor lamb, but she is," Dowie answered. The
Duchess' eyes met hers and they looked at each other for a moment.
Dowie tried to retain a non-committal steadiness and the Duchess
observing the intention knew that she was free to speak.
"Lord Coombe confided to me that she had passed through a hideous
danger which had made a lasting impression on her," she said in
a low voice. "He told me because he felt it would explain certain
reserves and fears in her."
"Sometimes she wakes up out of nightmares about it," said Dowie.
"And she creeps into my room shivering and I take her into my bed
and hold her in my arms until she's over the panic. She says the
worst of it is that she keeps thinking that there may have been
other girls trapped like her--and that they did not get away."
The Duchess was very thoughtful. She saw the complications in
which such a horror would involve a girl's mind.
"If she consorted with other young things and talked nonsense with
them and shared their pleasures she would forget it," she said.
"Ah!" exclaimed Dowie. "That's it."
The question in the Duchess' eyes when she lifted them required
an answer and she gave it respectfully.
"The thing that happened was only the last touch put to what she'd
gradually been finding out as she grew from child to young girl.


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