She saw at once it was from Christina, and she took it eagerly, and ran back to her own room with it. Trembling from head to feet, she broke the seal and read:
My dear Sister:
I was married to-day at half-past eleven to Jamie Rathey. I met him twelve days ago, and we went into the picture gallery, and sat there all day talking, and I found out that I loved Jamie, and did not love Sir Thomas. I promised to marry him, and we rented a nice floor and furnished it very prettily, and hired two servants, and so after the marriage ceremony, went to our own home for lunch. Do not blame me, Isabel. I have never been happy in all my life, and I want to be happy, and I shall be happy with Jamie. I have sent all the gifts Sir Thomas gave me back, and written him a letter. He will forgive me, and I know you will. Mother will forbid you to mention me, and she will never forgive. I know Robert will feel hurt, but he has no cause. I begged him to secure the fish that was on the hook for him, and he would not. I thought all well over, and I did not see why I should any longer sacrifice myself for the Campbells. For twenty-eight years I was miserable—child and woman. Nobody loved me but Jamie. I had nothing other girls and women had. But I am happy at last! Happy at last! Oh, Isabel, be glad for me. I will write to you every month, but you need not try to find me out. You could not. You might as well look for a needle in a hay-stack. Dear Isabel, do not forget me. Your loving sister,
Christina Rathey.
And Isabel cried and wrung her hands and said softly, but from her very heart, "I am glad, I am glad! You did right, Christina! Yes, you did! You did! And Isabel will stand by you till the last. She will! She will!"
With tears still on her white cheeks, she went down to the dining-room. Robert and his mother were at the table, and evidently not on agreeable terms. "Jepson thought you had a letter from Christina," said Mrs. Campbell, "and I am astonished you did not bring it to us, at once."
"I thought it would be better, to see first what news it contained."
"Well? Can you not speak?"
Then Isabel put the letter into her mother's hand.
And in a few minutes there was a cry like that of a woman wounded and crushed to death. With frantic passion Mrs. Campbell threw the letter at her son, and then with bitter execrations assailed the child she accused of killing her.
"Mother, mother! Do be quiet!" pleaded Isabel.
"She has killed me! I shall die of shame! I shall die! She has broken my heart!"