I
have deceived the doctor--and I glory in it. My master and Mr. Vimpany
thought they were safe in speaking French, while I was waiting on them.
I know French as well as they do."
Iris could hardly believe what she heard. "Do you really mean what you
say?" she asked.
"There's that much good in me," Fanny replied; "I always mean what I
say."
"Why did you deceive me? Why have you been acting the part of an
ignorant woman?"
"The deceit has been useful in your service," the obstinate maid
declared. "Perhaps it may be useful again."
"Was that what you were thinking of," Iris said, "when you allowed me
to translate English into French for you, and never told me the truth?"
"At any rate, I will tell you the truth, now. No: I was not thinking of
you, when you wrote my errands for me in French--I was thinking again
of some advice that was once given to me."
"Was it advice given by a friend?"
"Given by a man, my lady, who was the worst enemy I have ever had."
Her considerate mistress understood the allusion, and forbade her to
distress herself by saying more. But Fanny felt that atonement, as well
as explanation, was due to her benefactress. Slowly, painfully she
described the person to whom she had referred.
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