"Ah, you are afraid," she answered, with a ringing laugh. "Conscience makes cowards of all of us."
Mr. Chandos looked anything but afraid: he stood very calm, his head raised. Emily began taking off her things, throwing a bonnet on one chair, gloves on another, a shawl on the floor. I went forward to assist her.
"Don't touch anything of mine," she haughtily interrupted, putting herself before the shawl with a slight stamp. "Harry, how long has mamma kept her room?"
"Ever since you left," replied Mr. Chandos.
"Oh. And you and Anne Hereford have had the sole benefit of each other's company!"
"And a very pleasant benefit, too," boldly retorted Mr. Chandos. But my cheeks were in a flame, and they both saw it.
"You wrote me word that you wished to leave," she said, turning to me. "You are no longer in my service, and are at liberty to do so. When can you be ready?"
"My preparations will not take me long," was my reply.
Little cause was there to ask what had been the purport of her anonymous letter. Who could have written it? Who could be concerning themselves about me and Mr. Chandos? Was it Mrs. Penn?
"I should like some tea," she said, as she poured out a glass of wine and drank it. "Ring the bell and order it in, Anne Hereford. While they bring it I will run up to mamma's rooms, Harry. Wont she pull a long face when she hears that I decamped without the cognizance of le mari et la vieille mère!"