"I shall go to-night, sir. I will not take a favor from you, though I have done this house many favors."
"Robert, Robert!" cried Theodora, "consider what you are doing. Ducie, do not go away yet—for David's sake—let me keep Ducie, Robert."
"David will go to school in the autumn. He wants no nurse."
"Then let her stop until autumn. Robert, dear Robert, I entreat you that I may keep Ducie."
"After her impertinence to my mother, it is impossible. You ought to feel that."
"Oh dear, oh dear!" Theodora covered her face with her hands, and burst into passionate weeping.
Immediately Ducie was at her side comforting her. "Don't, ma'am. Please don't cry. Ducie knows it is not your fault."
Then Theodora unfastened the brooch at her throat and drew a ring from her finger.
"Take them, dear," she said. "We ought to pay you for three months' extra work, but I have no money. You know that, Ducie. Take these instead. Keep them for my sake, dear. Oh Ducie, Ducie! you are my only friend here, and they are sending you away. My God, my dear God, have pity on me!"
She spoke rapidly in a transport of sorrowful feeling; she forced the trinkets into Ducie's hand, and walking with her to the door, kissed her there; then sobbing like a little child, she fell upon the sofa in hopeless distress.