Haidee left my room next day for the first time, and spent the afternoon by the dining-room fire. Soon after dinner Mr. Rayner came in with his riding-boots on, and asked with a smile if I had not a letter to send to the post. He was going to ride to Beaconsburgh, and, if I gave it to him, it would go a post earlier than if I put it into the bag for the postman to fetch.
“No, I have no letter, thank you, Mr. Rayner,” said I, with a blush.
“Not a line for—Nice, to tell—some one you are coming?” said he archly.
“No,” answered I, shaking my head.
“You posted that one yesterday yourself, didn’t you, Miss Christie?” whispered little Haidee, putting her arms round my neck.
Mr. Rayner heard the whisper.
“Yesterday?” asked he quickly.
“I—I gave a—a note to Miss Reade to put with hers,” said I.
A curious change passed over Mr. Rayner. The smile remained on his face, which had however in one second turned ashy white. He said, “All right, my dear,” in his usual voice, except that I fancied there was a sort of hard ring in it, and left the room.
“Was it naughty of me to say?” said Haidee, feeling that something was wrong.