"Yes; I saw you put it in and lock the bag."
"Just so. Well, while I talked with you afterwards, I presume I must have let the bag slip on the window-seat; and forgot it. This morning, not long ago, I missed it, looked everywhere, and it was only by tracing back to when I last remembered to have had it, that I thought of your room, and that I might inadvertently have left it there. I sent Emma to look; and when she brought me the bag, I found it had been opened."
"Opened!" I repeated.
"Opened," she fiercely affirmed. And then, perhaps our very calmness recalling her to herself, she went on in a quiet tone.
"I am sure you will make allowance for me if I appear a little excited. I do not seek to cast suspicion upon any one: but I cannot deny that I am both annoyed and angry. You would be so yourself, Mr. Chandos, did such a thing happen to you," she added, suddenly turning to him.
"Take a seat, and explain to me what it is that has happened," replied Mr. Chandos, handing her a chair. "I scarcely comprehend."
"Thank you, no," she said, rejecting the seat. "I cannot stay to sit down, I must return to Mrs. Chandos; it was she who recommended me to come and speak to Miss Hereford. Upon Emma's bringing me the reticule I unlocked it, suspecting nothing, and——"
"I thought you said it had been opened, Mrs. Penn?"
"It had been opened. You shall hear. The first thing I saw was my letter, and the read seal looked cracked across. I thought perhaps the bag had fallen fiercely to the ground; but upon my looking at it more attentively I saw it had been opened. See."
She put the envelope into Mr. Chandos's hand for examination. It had been opened with a penknife, cut underneath, and afterwards fastened down with gum. Of this there was no doubt; part of the letter had also been cut.