The girl took the envelopes without comment, and opened one, dropping it subsequently upon the floor while unfolding the pink paper. She read the message without a change of countenance, while Mrs. Wylie made a brave pretence of being interested in her own letters. In the same manner Brenda opened the second telegram.
After she had read it, there was a horrible silence in the room, while the elder woman stood nervously reading the address of a letter to herself over and over again.
Then Brenda spoke in a clear voice, which bore no resemblance to her usual tones at all.
'Theo Trist is dead,' she said. 'He was killed on the twelfth of September at Plevna!'
The widow held out her hand, and took the two telegrams. They were from the great London editor—one telling of a rumour, the second confirming it. Brenda had read the confirmation first.
At last Mrs. Wylie raised her eyes to her companion's face, and following the direction of the girl's gaze, she remembered the large, ill-used envelope bearing a foreign stamp.
'That letter,' she whispered, trembling with downright fear.
'Yes,' answered Brenda, with the same sickening composure. 'It is from him.'
Then she took it and turned away to the window.
Without exactly knowing what she was doing, Mrs. Wylie sat down again in the chair she had vacated on the advent of the post-bag. Her lips moved as she stared stupidly at the work tossed aside on the table.