THE COLLECTED WORKS OF ETHEL LINA WHITE. Ethel Lina White

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THE COLLECTED WORKS OF ETHEL LINA WHITE - Ethel Lina  White


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meekly in her corner?

      "But, all the time she was living with Miss Asprey her stronger will was gradually giving her the mastery over her employer, although, owing to her lack of brain, she only made use of her power by asking for small favours—such as special food-fancies and getting her work reduced to a minimum. Later on, she went to more extreme lengths when her hatred of fresh air forced Miss Asprey to submit to closed windows. But I believe, in the beginning, Miss Asprey was unconscious of the true position.

      "Now, I must enlighten you as to Miss Asprey's real character. Everyone believes her to be a saint. She is very nearly one—unselfish, charitable, religious, and singularly free from faults...But she has one human failing, and that is vanity. She likes the homage she receives. Exposure, or ridicule, would be more than she could bear.

      "From childhood, she has suffered from a handicap which she has concealed under a show of icy austerity, and fine self-control. She is a victim to acute emotionalism. She had a bad break-down, at school, and another when she was obliged to give up her Rescue work.

      "In spite of her forced withdrawal, she continued her efforts to help others. Out of charity, she gave a home to Gertrude Mack, who had just served a term of imprisonment for shop-lifting. She was very kind to her, but, perhaps, was a shade too official. I am inferring this. She'd been used to deal with some very loose characters. There is no doubt that Miss Mack resented her treatment. But—all the time—while she was apparently supine, she was slowly sapping Miss Asprey's mental strength, until she had reduced her to so much pulp.

      "But still—the poison remained latent.

      "Presently, Miss Mack began to break out again. She pilfered from the maids, and, on one occasion, she took a brooch from Miss Brook. Miss Asprey would not give her away, for she evidently feared that exposure would destroy any chance Miss Mack had of a resurrection. So, in order to protect her friends from her attentions, she had to curtail Miss Mack's liberty. Then, she began to hate her employer...And, at this point, you come in, my friend."

      "I?" cried the Rector.

      "I asked you not to interrupt...Yes, you, my husky friend—a black bull of a fellow, with a hypnotic finger and chest-notes like thunder. I'm not blaming you, of course. If Miss Mack had not paved the way for you, and left poor Miss Asprey scooped out like a hollow nut, she would have got spiritual pleasure and profit from your red-hot Gospel.

      "But, as things were, your words fell on a hot-bed of hysteria. You goaded the poor, overwrought soul to the point of convicting herself of non-existent sin. Perhaps, also, she was worried by inhibitions; or you might have stirred up some residue from the mud of her Rescue Work.

      "Anyway, there she was, a damned miserable sinner, with no way of getting it out of her system. She wanted the relief of the Confessional...So she adopted the singular course of writing herself an anonymous letter, convicting herself of imaginary sin, which she showed to you. When you, so to speak, gave her Absolution, the crisis was past. She had worked the poison out of her system—so her scheme was, after all, a success.

      "Unluckily, someone gossiped, and the thing got about. Miss Corner got suspected—so wrote herself a letter also, to prove that she was a victim, and not the culprit. Then she, most unfortunately, passed out, for she was a valuable witness. After her death, the trouble began, for there was a general nasty feeling, and the rumour of suicide.

      "This was the signal for Miss Mack's sluggish brain to wake up. Directly after Miss Asprey had written her letter, the companion found a rough draft of it in the waste-paper-basket. Although she did not realise its value, she kept it. After Miss Corner's death, she saw its significance. That draft was proof that Miss Asprey had written the first letter, so would be under suspicion of having written others.

      "In fact, I don't see how any ordinary person could believe her innocence in the face of such damning evidence. Who—but myself—would accept a fantastic tale of her wanting her parson to know of her self-alleged moral depravity?

      "Well, Miss Mack now put her suckers into action. She realised that Miss Asprey would have to face the stigma of forcing Miss Corner to commit suicide—for that was the vague general notion. So she skilfully spread lying rumours, and began her anonymous letter campaign.

      "Her idea was to create a general atmosphere of fear and suspicion which would be attributed to Miss Asprey. Of course, she struck blindly, in the dark. She hated all the people who had money and security, but she was rather like a vicious child, hitting an adult below the belt. She believed these superior people immune to her attacks.

      "I can guess, therefore, at her reaction to the Scudamore suicides. I had one glimpse of her eyes when she heard the news. It's my belief, it made her drunk with power. After that, she must have got hold of some secret information, for she began a specially cruel persecution of Dr. Perry, which did him a lot of harm.

      "All the time, she was safe as a sharp-shooter who uses another body for his screen. Miss Asprey would receive the blame for whatever she did. She began to bleed her, as the price of her silence. Then, she spread her net a bit too wide, to include Miss Martin. You know the result."

      Ignatius stopped talking. In the leaping firelight, his eyes seemed sunken into pits above his pre-historic smile.

      "Now do you understand," he asked, "how that first innocent letter, written by poor Miss Asprey, proved the harmless gelatine which inoculated the poison?"

      He waited in vain for applause. Charles yawned, and walked pointedly to the biscuit-barrel. The Rector sighed deeply and lit the lamp.

      "Better have some light," he said dully. "And I think we'll both be better for a spot of Johnny Walker. You've certainly earned your drink, Ignatius. How long have you been talking?...But it's a terrible tale."

      "Ah!" smiled Ignatius, "I'm used to groping in the labyrinths of choked and distorted minds. It's exhilarating to follow the thread and prove myself right. Before I'd slept one night in the village, I had suspected the truth."

      The Rector and Charles exchanged sceptical glances, but Ignatius continued to gloat.

      "That first evening we went for a walk, and saw two women in the garden of Spout Manor. Instantly, I concluded, by her slight undefinable air of mastery, that Miss Mack was the mistress. My first impression is never wrong. After you told me of my mistake, I continued to linger on the possibility of strange relations between those two women, shut up together in that old house...Besides, you had already warned me to distrust Miss Asprey's air of ineffability."

      "I did not," declared the Rector.

      "Not in so many words," said Ignatius. "But, surely, you, yourself, must have been astonished when she insisted on your reading the alleged attack on her moral character? How did that square up with her character for dignity and austere reserve?"

      "I suppose so," admitted the Rector.

      "You see, therefore, I attended church, with some foreknowledge of Miss Asprey's hysteria. I studied her reaction to your sermon, while I was apparently, admiring her maid. Again, I was right, for I detected all the signs of suppressed neurosis. After that, it was a logical conclusion to see her in the character of a possible victim. And I began to concentrate on Miss Mack."

      "How?" asked the Rector.

      "I lost no time," explained Ignatius. "The same afternoon, I took Ada for a walk, and picked her brains. She was sharp, and suspected that I wanted to find out if Miss Asprey was severe to Miss Mack—a fact, which—if it was noticed—would have been approved by the servants."

      Ignatius broke off to chuckle.

      "Poor Ada. I learned that, firstly, Miss Mack had boasted of being mistress of the house; secondly, that the two women were always shut up together; and, lastly, that Ada had been losing personal trifles.

      "That evening, you showed me the envelope which had contained Miss Asprey's letter. As I was looking out for any trifle which might be helpful, I remarked the two initials. 'Miss Asprey' would have been the natural address, unless she habitually signed her initials, or unless the letter was written by someone who knew her very well.


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