"Is that
letter for her? Shall I give it to her?"
"No, thank you, I'll give it myself; and it'll be the last that ever I will
give, for it isn't my business," added Phillis, flustered and indignant, so
much so that she dropped the letter on the floor.
By the light of the small taper there was a mutual search for it--why
mutual Miss Gascoigne best knew. It was she who picked it up, and
before she had delivered it back she had clearly seen it all--
handwriting, seal and tinted envelope, with the initials "E. U." on the
corner.
Some hidden feeling in both of them, the lady and the servant, some
last remnant of pity and charity, prevented their confiding openly in
one another, even if Miss Gascoigne could have condescended so far.
But she knew as well as if Phillis had told, and Phillis likewise was
perfectly aware she knew, that the note came from Sir Edwin Uniacke.
Poor Aunt Henrietta! She was so horrified--literally horrified, that she
could bear no more. She left no message--waited for nobody--but
hurried back as fast as she could walk, through twilight, to her own
cottage at Avonside.
Chapter 14.
_"Peace on Earth, and mercy mild,
Sing the angels, reconciled;
Over each sad warfare done,
Each soul-battle lost and won.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259