"There can be no need for troubling Miss Vivian about it," he said, in a
tone which was almost rude. But Mrs. Turner was not sensitive.
"When Miss Vivian has just come like a dear, to help us with Connie!" the
good woman cried. "Of course she must hear it, doctor, for otherwise, how
could she know what to do?"
"Is it true that you have come here--_here?_ to help--Good heavens, Miss
Mary, _here?_"
"Why not here?" Mary said, smiling as but she could. "I am Connie's
governess, doctor."
He burst out into that suppressed roar which serves a man instead of
tears, and jumped up from his seat, clenching his fist. The clenched fist
was to the intention of the dead woman whose fault this was; and if it
had ever entered the doctor's mind, as his mother supposed, to marry this
forlorn child, and thus bestow a home upon her whether she would or no,
no doubt he would now have attempted to carry out that plan. But as no
such thing had occurred to him, the doctor only showed his sense of the
intolerable by look and gesture. "I must speak to the vicar. I must see
Furnival. It can't be permitted," he cried.
"Do you think I shall not be kind to her, doctor?" cried Mrs. Turner.
"Oh, ask her! she is one that understands. She knows far better than
that. We're not fine people, doctor, but we're kind people.
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