“Excuse me, sir, many days have passed since. But, Mr Ruthven, it is better I should spare you the pain of saying that you no longer consider me fit for the situation. Allow me, then, to inform you that I wish—that I no longer wish to remain in your employment.”
“Harry,” said Mr Ruthven, gravely, “does your brother—does your sister know of your desire to leave me? Would they approve, if you were sent West?”
“Pardon me, Mr Ruthven, that question need not be discussed. I must be the best judge of the matter. As for them, they were at least reconciled to my going when you—drew back.”
Mr Ruthven was evidently uncomfortable. He took up his bundle of letters again, murmuring something about their not wishing it now.
“I understand you, sir,” said Harry, with a very pale face. “Allow me to say that as soon as you can supply my place—or at once, if you like—I must go.”
But Mr Ruthven was not listening to him. He had turned over his letters till a little note among them attracted his attention. He broke the seal, and read it while Harry was speaking. It was very brief, only three words and one initial letter.
“Let Harry go. G.”
He read it, and folded it, and laid it down with a sigh. Then he turned to Harry, just as he was laying his hand on the door.
“What is it, Harry? I did not hear what you were saying.”
“I merely said, sir,” said Harry, turning round and facing him, “that as soon as you can supply my place in the office, I shall consider myself at liberty to go.”