"I do not want to go after him; but he isn't hurt? That's what I want to know."
"No, he isn't hurt…. You're getting stronger…. Lean on me. You'll begin to feel better when you are in bed. I'll bring you up your tea."
"Yes, I shall be all right presently. But how'll you manage to get the dinner?"
"Don't you worry about that; you go upstairs and lie down."
A desolate hope floated over the surface of her brain that William might be brought back to her.
In the evening the kitchen was full of people: Margaret, Sarah, and Grover were there, and she heard that immediately after lunch Mr. Leopold had been sent for, and the Gaffer had instructed him to pay William a month's wages, and see that he left the house that very instant. Sarah, Margaret, and Grover watched Esther's face and were surprised at her indifference. She even seemed pleased. She was pleased; nothing better could have happened. William was now separated from her rival, and released from her bad influence he would return to his real love. At the first sign she would go to him, she would forgive him. But a little later, when the dishes came down from the dining-room, it was whispered that Peggy was not there.
Later in the evening, when the servants were going to bed, it became known
that she had left the house, that she had taken the six o'clock to
Brighton. Esther turned from the foot of the stair with a wild look.
Margaret caught her.
"It's no use, dear; you can do nothing to-night."
"I can walk to Brighton."
"No, you can't; you don't know the way, and even if you did you don't know where they are."