"Very little," said Edna, with a dignified simplicity that failed entirely to convince Sir Julian of the accuracy of her statement. "But, thank God, I believe I have made certain that there will be no débâcle such as one could not help dreading. I was in terror that that unfortunate girl should try to force an issue."
Sir Julian realised, with a slight shock of surprise, that his wife's estimate of Miss Marchrose's capabilities of enterprise were identical with his own. Edna, he reflected, did not yet know that Miss Marchrose had, to all intents and purposes, most unmistakably hauled down her colours when she had tendered her resignation to him that morning.
"How are you to prevent her from forcing an issue?" he asked.
"It's so simple. Mark is going away on business, and he leaves on Saturday instead of on Monday. A week makes a long break, Julian, in a case like this, and she will either understand why he has gone without being told, or she will find her position intolerable, and leave the College. Even if she stays on—though I think it impossible that she should—they will begin again on a very different footing. Mark understands now."
"Understands what, in Heaven's name?"
Edna raised her eyebrows and made a significant gesture. "Mark goes to-morrow?"
"Yes. Thank Heaven, I made him see that there is greater courage in turning one's back, sometimes, than in facing a danger. Every day that passes, as these last days have passed, the risk of an explosion becomes greater. It's like skating over a volcano."
"Nobody ever does skate over volcanoes," said Julian, almost automatically. His mind was working rapidly.
Mark was turning his back.
As Edna had said, it might be the greater courage.