It was dark outside, but the entrance hall was brightly lighted and Jessy could see into it from where she sat. Highly trained domestics are generally scarce in the West, and the maid had left the door of the room open. Presently there was a knock at the outer door and a young lad came in with some letters in his hand. He explained to the maid that he had been to the post-office and had brought his employer's private mail. The maid pointed out that the top letter looked dirty, and the lad owned that he had dropped the bundle in the street. Then he withdrew and the maid laid the letters carelessly on a little table and also retired, banging a door behind her. The concussion shook down the letters, and one, fluttering forward with the sudden draught, fell almost upon the threshold of the room. Jessy, who was methodical in most things, rose to pick it up and replace it with the rest.
When she reached the door, however, she stopped abruptly, for she recognized the rather large writing on the envelope. There was no doubt that it was from Vane and she noticed that it was addressed to Miss Chisholm. Jessy picked it up, and when she had laid the others on the table, she stood with Vane's letter in her hand.
"Has the man no pride?" she said half aloud.
Then she looked about her, listening, greatly tempted, and considering. There was no sound in the house; Evelyn and Mrs. Nairn were out, and the other occupants were cut off from her by a closed door. Nobody would know that she had entered the hall, and if the letter were subsequently missed it would be remembered that the lad had confessed to dropping the bundle. It was most unlikely, however, that any question regarding its disappearance would ever be asked. If there should be no response from Evelyn, Vane, she thought, would not renew his appeal. Jessy had no doubt that the letter contained an appeal of some kind which might lead to a reconciliation, and she knew that silence is often more potent than an outbreak of anger. She had only to destroy the letter, and the breach between the two people whom she desired to separate would widen automatically.
There was little risk of detection, but, standing tensely still, with set lips and heart beating faster than usual, she shrank from the decisive action. She could still replace the letter and look for other means of bringing about what she wished. She was self-willed and endowed with few troublesome principles, but until she had poisoned Evelyn's mind against Vane she had never done anything flagrantly dishonorable. Then while she waited, irresolute, a fresh temptation seized her in the shape of a burning desire to learn what the man had to say. He would reveal his feelings in the message and she could judge the strength of her rival's influence over him. Jessy had her ideas on this point, but she could now see them confirmed or refuted by the man's own words.
Yet she hesitated, with a half-instinctive recognition of the fact that the decision she must make was an eventful one. She had transgressed grievously in one recent interview with Evelyn, but, while she had no idea of making reparation, she could at least stop short of a second offense. She had, perhaps, not gone too far yet, but if she ventured a little farther she might be driven on against her will and become inextricably involved in an entanglement of dishonorable treachery.
The issue hung in the balance—the slightest thing would have turned the scale—when she heard footsteps outside and the tinkle of a bell. Moving with a start, she slipped back into the room just before the maid opened the adjacent door. In another moment she thrust the envelope inside her dress, and gathered her composure as Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn entered the hall. The former approached the table and turned over the handful of letters.
"Two for ye from England, Evelyn, and one or two for me," she said, flashing a quick glance at the girl. "Nothing else; I had thought Vane would maybe send a bit note from one of the island ports to say how he was getting on."
Then Jessy rose, smiling, to greet her hostess. The question was decided—it was too late to replace the letter now. She could not remember what they talked about during the next half-hour, but she took her part, until Nairn came in, and she contrived to have a word with him before leaving. Mrs. Nairn had gone out to give some instructions about supper, and when Evelyn followed her, Jessy turned to Nairn.
"Mr. Vane should be at Comox now," she began. "Have you any idea of recalling him? Of course, I know a little about the Clermont affairs."