On the pretext of fatigue, she staggered upstairs, assisted by Sir Robert, as far as the foot of the staircase, where she gently refused further help.
Rhoda had never seen the kindly Sir Robert angry before, and the effect his displeasure had upon her was overwhelming. She, however, was not to be the only person to offend him that day, for Bessie, who came in with a little tray with the wing of a chicken for the convalescent, brought with her the news that Sir Robert was gravely displeased with his old servant, Langton, to whom he had given notice to leave him.
“I don’t know the rights of it,” went on Bessie, “and I don’t want to gossip. But it’s thought Langton told Sir Robert something he didn’t want to hear, and didn’t believe, and this is the consequences!”
Rhoda listened in distressed silence. Had the faithful servant dared to tell his master something that he had seen? Something that concerned Lady Sarah and Jack Rotherfield? She would not condescend to gossip with Bessie about it, but when she was alone, she left her repast almost untasted, and, attracted by a soft murmur of voices that came like a distant whisper through the open window, crossed the floor and looked out, and saw, between the branches of the trees, two figures sauntering along the avenue that ran inside the outer wall of the grounds.
She had no difficulty in recognising them, and when, before they had gone many steps, they stopped and the man put his arm round the girl and kissed her, Rhoda knew that it was Jack Rotherfield whom she had seen kissing the betrothed wife of his guardian.
Rhoda could bear no more; turning from the window, giddy and almost sick with grief and horror, she resolved to leave the house that very night. She felt that she could not meet the eyes of the baronet, his fiancée, or Jack Rotherfield again.
The evening seemed a long one; she had to go to bed, to avoid exciting suspicion as to her intention, which was to steal out of the house when everybody else was asleep. But before retiring she witnessed a sight that set her thinking. For after dinner Sir Robert walked with Lady Sarah up and down the terrace close under Rhoda’s window, and the girl fancied, both by the affectionate manner in which they smiled at each other, and by the defiant half-glances which the baronet cast stealthily up towards her window, that he had told his fiancée of the doubts expressed as to her sincerity, and that Lady Sarah had set him quite at rest upon that score.
Rhoda did not sleep. At one o’clock, when all was silent in the house, she rose, dressed herself hastily, and glided softly out of her room and down the stairs. She had written a letter, directed to Sir Robert, and left it in her room. She had said in it that, having had the misfortune to offend him, she could not meet him again, but that she begged his pardon with all her heart, and hoped that he would forgive her, as she felt sure he would do, if he could only understand the pain she felt at having given a moment’s displeasure to one to whom she owed so much. She added that she would never forget his goodness to her as long as she lived.
She had reached the hall, with the intention of leaving the house by the front-door, and had withdrawn the bolts, when she was startled by the sound of some one rapidly descending the stairs. She thought she was discovered, and hastily hid herself in the dark corner beside the tall grandfather’s clock that stood near the door.
But she had scarcely done so when she caught sight of something which she could dimly discern to be a man, disappearing into the drawing-room, and the next moment she heard sounds within the room as of a scuffle and stifled cries.