And we didn’t speak another word to each other that evening.
* * * * *
The next morning was Sunday, and, after breakfast, Miss Measom came to me and said, “Mrs. Beckett, can I say a word to you?”
“Yes,” I said quite sharply. “What is it?”
“I think I’d better leave.”
“As you please, Miss Measom.”
“Then, as soon as you’re suited.”
“Certainly!” and with that I turned on my heel and went upstairs to dress for church.
I didn’t say anything to Harry about Miss Measom having given notice. To tell the truth, I was beginning to be a little bit ashamed of myself, and to think that I had been too hasty.
After that Miss Measom’s manner quite changed in the bar. She hadn’t a smile for anybody, and the customers asked me what was the matter with the girl. The next Saturday when the young fellows came in one of them called her “Tommy.” She looked up quietly, and said, “Mr. So-and-so, I should be much obliged if you wouldn’t call me that. There are reasons why I ask you, which I can’t tell you.”