in violet-coloured ink, on note-paper as smooth as ivory and
almost as thick as cardboard, and it addressed me in these terms--

"Mr. Fairlie's compliments to Mr. Hartright. Mr. Fairlie is more
surprised and disappointed than he can say (in the present state of his
health) by Mr. Hartright's application. Mr. Fairlie is not a man of
business, but he has consulted his steward, who is, and that person
confirms Mr. Fairlie's opinion that Mr. Hartright's request to be
allowed to break his engagement cannot be justified by any necessity
whatever, excepting perhaps a case of life and death. If the
highly-appreciative feeling towards Art and its professors, which it is
the consolation and happiness of Mr. Fairlie's suffering existence to
cultivate, could be easily shaken, Mr. Hartright's present proceeding
would have shaken it. It has not done so--except in the instance of Mr.
Hartright himself.

"Having stated his opinion--so far, that is to say, as acute nervous
suffering will allow him to state anything--Mr. Fairlie has nothing to
add but the expression of his decision, in reference to the highly
irregular application that has been made to him. Perfect repose of
body and mind being to the last degree important in his case, Mr.
Fairlie will not suffer Mr. Hartright to disturb that repose by
remaining in the house under circumstances of an essentially irritating
nature to both sides. Accordingly, Mr. Fairlie waives his right of
refusal, purely with a view to the preservation of his own
tranquillity--and informs Mr. Hartright that he may go."

I folded the letter up, and put it away with my other papers. The time
had been when I should have resented it as an insult--I accepted it now
as a written release from my engagement. It was off my mind, it was
almost out of my memory, when I went downstairs to the breakfast-room,
and informed Miss Halcombe that I was ready to walk with her to the
farm.

"Has Mr. Fairlie given you a satisfactory answer?" she asked as we left
the house.

"He has allowed me to go, Miss Halcombe."

She looked up at me quickly, and then, for the first time since I had
known her, took my arm of her own accord. No words could have
expressed so delicately that she understood how the permission to leave
my employment had been granted, and that she gave me her sympathy, not
as my superior, but as my friend. I had not felt the man's insolent
letter, but I felt deeply the woman's atoning kindness.