The speaker was Miss Eade. Monica looked at her, and nodded.
“You? What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see if some one was standing outside.”
“You mean him?”
The other nodded.
“I’ve got a beastly headache. I couldn’t hold myself up, and I had to come home at eight o’clock. There’s such pains all down my back too. I shan’t stay at this beastly place much longer. I don’t want to get ill, like Miss Radford. Somebody went to see her at the hospital this afternoon, and she’s awfully bad. Well, have you seen him?”
“He’s gone. Good-night.”
And Monica left the room.
Next day she notified her intention of leaving her employment. No questions were asked; she was of no particular importance; fifty, or, for the matter of that, five score, young women equally capable could be found to fill her place.
On Tuesday morning there came a letter from Virginia—a few lines requesting her to meet her sisters, as soon as possible after closing time that evening, in front of the shop. “We have something very delightful to tell you. We do hope you gave notice to-day, as things are getting so bright in every direction.”