Those who were in
the secret did not wonder at her luck. She was the _ame damnee_ of Flora
Bellasys.
Whenever the latter ventured on any unusually daring escapade, she was
always really accompanied by Miss Thornton, or supposed to be so. How
the influence was originally acquired I know not; at the time I speak of
she had no more volition left than a Russian Grenadier. She had some
principles of action once, I suppose, and considered herself as an
accountable being; but all such vanities her "dashing white sergeant"
had drilled out of her long ago. Poor thing! It was no wonder that the
frightened look had become habitual to her face, and that she always
spoke with reserve and constraint, as if to guard against the
chance-betrayal of some terrible secret. It was no sinecure, her
office--alternately scapegoat and _confidante_. My own idea is, that
having still a little feeble remnant of a conscience remaining, she
suffered agonies of remorse at times in the latter capacity. Dancing was
her great--almost her only pleasure, and Flora certainly provided her
regularly with partners. Indeed, some one had irreverently designated
Miss Thornton as The Turnpike, inasmuch as, before securing a waltz with
the beauty, it was necessary to pay toll in the shape of a duty-dance
with her _protegee_.
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