“Tell John to take this to Mr. Plowden’s lodgings at once; and if he should be out, to follow him till he finds him, and deliver it.”
“Yes, miss.”
Ten minutes later Mr. Plowden got the following note:
“Come here at once. Eva has heard from Ernest Kershaw, and announces her intention of throwing you over and marrying him. Be prepared for a struggle, but do not show that you have heard from me. You must find means to hold your own. Burn this.”
Mr. Plowden whistled as he laid the paper down. Going to his desk, he unlocked it, and extracted the letter he had received from Eva, in which she acknowledged her engagement to him, and then, seizing his hat, walked swiftly towards the Cottage.
Meanwhile Florence made her way downstairs again, saying to herself as she went, “An unlucky chance. If I had seen the letter first, I would have burned it. But we shall win yet. She has not the stamina to stand out against that brute.”
As soon as she reached the dining-room Eva began to say something more about her letter, but her sister stopped her quickly.
“Let me have my breakfast in peace, Eva. We will talk of the letter afterwards. He does not interest me, your Ernest, and it takes away my appetite to talk business at meals.”
Eva ceased, and sat silent; breakfast had no charms for her that morning.
Presently there was a knock at the door, and Mr. Plowden entered with a smile of forced gaiety on his face.