"Is he alone?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Take this letter to him, then; and, Eunice, tell Miss Grace I will not be down to dinner. You can fetch me a cup of tea here. I do not feel very well."
Eunice departed on her errand. Kate drew a long, long breath of relief when she closed the door after her. She drew her favourite chair up before the fire, took a book off the table, and seated herself resolutely to read. She was determined to put off thought—to let events take their course, and cease tormenting herself, for to-night at least.
Eunice brought up the tea and a little trayful of dainties, drew the curtain, and lit the lamp. Kate laid down her book and looked up.
"Did you deliver the note, Eunice?"
"Yes, Miss."
"And my message to Miss Grace?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Very well, then—you may go."