And why
had she opened the window?

I spare you my reflections on these perplexing questions. A convenient
headache saved me from the ordeal of meeting Lady Claudia at the
dinner-table. I passed a restless and miserable night; conscious that
I had found my way blindly, as it were, to some terrible secret which
might have its influence on my whole future life, and not knowing what
to think, or what to do next. Even then, I shrank instinctively from
speaking to my uncle. This was not wonderful. But I felt afraid to speak
to Michael--and that perplexed and alarmed me. Consideration for Lady
Claudia was certainly not the motive that kept me silent, after what I
had seen.

The next morning my pale face abundantly justified the assertion that I
was still ill.

My aunt, always doing her maternal duty toward me, came herself to
inquire after my health before I was out of my room. So certain was she
of not having been observed on the previous day--or so prodigious was
her power of controlling herself--that she actually advised me to go out
riding before lunch, and try what the fresh air and the exercise would
do to relieve me! Feeling that I must end in speaking to Michael, it
struck me that this would be the one safe way of consulting him in
private. I accepted her advice, and had another approving pat on the
cheek from her plump white fingers. They no longer struck cold on my
skin; the customary vital warmth had returned to them. Her ladyship's
mind had recovered its tranquillity.

IX.

I LEFT the house for my morning ride.

Michael was not in his customary spirits. With some difficulty, I
induced him to tell me the reason. He had decided on giving notice to
leave his situation in the General's employment. As soon as I
could command myself, I asked what had happened to justify this
incomprehensible proceeding on his part. He silently offered me a
letter. It was written by the master whom he had served before he came
to us; and it announced that an employment as secretary was offered to
him, in the house of a gentleman who was "interested in his creditable
efforts to improve his position in the world."

What it cost me to preserve the outward appearance of composure as I
handed back the letter, I am ashamed to tell. I spoke to him with some
bitterness. "Your wishes are gratified," I said; "I don't wonder
that you are eager to leave your place." He reined back his horse
and repeated my words. "Eager to leave my place?