"Nothing——" he began, thrusting the letter under the pile of envelopes by his plate; but she continued to look at him anxiously, till she drew his eyes to hers.
"Mr. Langhope writes that they've appointed Wyant to Saint Christopher's," he said abruptly.
"Oh, the letter—we forgot the letter!" she cried.
"Yes—we forgot the letter."
"But how dare he——?"
Amherst said nothing, but the long silence between them seemed full of ironic answers, till she brought out, hardly above her breath: "What shall you do?"
"Write at once—tell Mr. Langhope he's not fit for the place."
"Of course——" she murmured.
He went on tearing open his other letters, and glancing at their contents. She leaned back in her chair, her cup of coffee untasted, listening to the recurrent crackle of torn paper as he tossed aside one letter after another.
Presently he rose from his seat, and as she followed him from the dining-room she noticed that his breakfast had also remained untasted. He gathered up his letters and walked toward the smoking-room; and after a moment's hesitation she joined him.