She stared, trying to understand what I meant; but it made her laugh in a strange way. “Are you afraid he’ll corrupt you?” She asked with bold humor, and I laughed along, feeling a bit silly.
But the next day, as it got closer to the time for my drive, I brought up another question. “Who was the lady who was here before?”
“The previous governess? She was also young and pretty—almost as young and almost as pretty as you, miss.”
“Ah, then, I hope her youth and beauty helped her!” I remember saying. “He seems to like us young and pretty!”
“Oh, he did,” Mrs. Grose agreed. “That’s how he liked everyone!” She quickly corrected herself. “I mean, that’s how the master likes it.”
I was curious. “But who were you talking about earlier?”
She looked confused for a moment, but then blushed. “Why, about him.”
“The master?”
“Who else?”
It was clear that there was no one else, so I stopped thinking that she had accidentally said more than she wanted. Instead, I asked what I really wanted to know. “Did she notice anything strange about the boy…?”
“Anything strange? She never told me.”
I had a doubt, but I ignored it. “Was she careful?”
“About some things—yes.”
“But not about everything?”
Again she thought for a moment. “Well, miss— she’s gone. I won’t gossip[14].”
“I understand your feeling,” I quickly replied, but I thought, after a moment, that it was okay to ask: “Did she die here?”
“No—she left.”
I don’t know why Mrs. Grose’s answer seemed unclear to me. “Left to die? Was she sick, and went home?”
“She didn’t seem sick while she was here. At the end of the year, she left to go home for a short vacation, as she said. She had earned the time off. We had another young woman—a nanny—who stayed on and took care of the children during that time. But our young lady never returned, and just as I was expecting her, I received word from the master that she had died.”
“But of what?”
“He never told me! But please, miss,” said Mrs. Grose, “I must get to my work.”