"Matter enough, I think." His face wore a frown which boded ill for someone. "Toni, what have you been saying to Miss Loder to make her write this letter?"
"Saying to Miss Loder?" Every scrap of colour faded from her face, and Owen, watching, took her pallor for the ashy hue of guilt.
"Yes. You've said something—I don't know what—but I should like to know at once, without prevarication, just what it is."
"I've said nothing to Miss Loder." Her voice was unsteady—she too had felt her nerves jarred during this dreadful day.
"Well, you see what she says." He stooped and picked up the letter, which he handed to Toni. "Read that, and tell me what you make of it."
With fingers as cold as ice, and a memory in her heart of another letter which had brought her misery, Toni took the sheet, and read, in Miss Loder's firm, characteristic hand, the letter in which she requested to be allowed to resign her post.
"I am not taking this step without serious thought," so the letter ran, "and for some time I determined to remain with you as long as you honoured me by your acquiescence in the arrangement. But learning, as I do, from a quite indisputable source, that my presence in your house is distasteful to Mrs. Rose, I have no option but to ask you to release me from a position which is not only unpleasant but undignified. If you will be kind enough to waive the question of notice, I would prefer to terminate the engagement at once."
Here followed her signature, firm and clear as ever; and then came a postscript, surely a sign of disturbance on the part of so academic a scribe.
"I would prefer to dissever all connection with the Bridge at the same time; but am willing to remain at the office until you find a suitable person for the post."
Having read the letter Toni let it fall upon her knee, while she gazed dreamily into the red heart of the fire, her brain working slowly as she tried to understand the significance of Miss Loder's epistle.