she
said.

"I repeat my refusal, but I can do no less than offer you my
resignation."

"You won't accept my offer--but I accept yours very gladly."

"It will be kind of you to relieve me from my duties as soon as
possible."

"To-morrow." She turned her back on me and walked off to the window. I
stood there a minute, and then went to the door. She turned round, and
our eyes met. I waited for a moment, but she faced round to the window
again, and I went out.

I walked quickly down the hill. I was very unhappy, but I was not
remorseful. I knew that another man could have done the thing much
better, but it had been the right thing to do and I had done it as well
as I could. She had made no attempt to defend Powers, nor to deny what
she must have known that Cartmell had said about him. Yet, while tacitly
admitting that he was a most obnoxious description of blackguard, she
asked him to dinner--and ordered me to sit by and see them together. If
her service entailed that sort of thing, then indeed there must be an
end to service with her. But grieved as I was that this must be so--and
the blow to me was heavy on all grounds, whether of interest or of
feeling--I grieved more that she should sit with him herself than that
she bade me witness what seemed in my eyes her degradation. What was the
meaning of it? I was at that time nowhere near understanding her.

My home was no more than a cottage, built against the south wall of the
Old Priory. The front door opened straight into my parlor, without hall
or vestibule; a steep little stair ran up from the corner of the room
itself and led to my bedroom on the floor above. Behind my parlor lay
the kitchen and two other rooms, occupied by my housekeeper, Mrs. Field,
and her husband, who was one of the gardeners. It was all very small,
but it was warm, snug, and homely. The walls were covered almost
completely with my books, which overflowed on to chairs and tables, too.
When fire and lamp were going in the evening, the little room seemed to
glow with a studious cheerfulness, and my old leather arm-chair wooed me
with affectionate welcome. In four years I had taken good root in my
little home. I had to uproot myself--to-morrow.

With this pang, there came suddenly one deeper. I was about to
lose--perforce--what was now revealed to me as a great, though a very
new, interest in my life. From the first both Cartmell and I had been
keenly interested in the heiress--the lonely girl