When Miss Traynor saw her niece's writing, addressed to herself on a stamped envelope which had come by the post, all her faculties had been suddenly stimulated into extraordinary activity. She had had, ever since his visit earlier in the day, a dull misgiving that something had gone wrong, or was going wrong. The sight of her niece's handwriting instantly confirmed her suspicions. She tore the letter open, and in a minute had mastered its contents. The letter was very brief, and ran as follows:
"My own dearest Aunt,
"I have all along been terrified by the changes which have taken place in his fortunes. I am, as you know, only a poor plain girl, with no pretensions to blood or family. It is therefore impossible for anything more to be between him and me. I have made my mind up never to see him again. I am sure he would not stay away for my telling him. I have no choice but to go and hide myself until he has grown wise enough to forget.
"Your always most loving niece,
"Marion."
When Miss Traynor had finished reading, the extraordinary mental activity which had sprung up in her died out, and she sank into a dull stupid state, in which there was nothing clear before her mind. For years she had been an invalid incapable of active bodily exercise. She now found herself alone in a house with her servant, and the knowledge that, as far as she might be able to do anything, she might as well be dead. Marion had fled. She could not move, and even if she were suddenly restored to health and strength, she had so long been unaccustomed to cross the threshold of her own door, that she would have been quite helpless. All this rushed into her mind in a moment, while the mind continued still active. Then the activity was exhausted, her chin dropped upon her chest and until Cheyne entered the room she had had no clear image of anything in her mind.
He broke the silence at last.
"Miss Traynor, this is dreadful. This is awful. I too got a letter from her this evening. It contains something of the substance of yours, but it did not hint at her leaving home. When did she go out?"
He was looking vacantly as he spoke at the feeble old woman before him.
"I do not know. Anne can tell you I daresay."