The lady’s maid gave this message to the other servant, and she went down-stairs with it.

The message, however, had not been gone long when the desire to put a question to Jael Dence returned strongly upon Grace Carden.

She yielded to an uncontrollable impulse, and sent her maid down to say that she would speak to Jael Dence, in her bedroom, the last thing at night.

“The last thing at night!” said Jael, coloring with indignation; “and where am I to find a bed after that?”

“Oh,” said the late footman, now butler, “you shall not leave the house.  I’ll manage that for you with the housekeeper.”

At half-past eleven o’clock that night Grace dismissed her maid, and told her to bring Jael Dence to her.

Jael came, and they confronted each other once more.

“You can go,” said Grace to the maid.

They were alone, and eyed each other strangely.

“Sit down,” said Grace, coldly.

“No, thank you,” said Jael, firmly.  “I shall not stay long after the way I have been received.”

“And how do you expect to be received?”

“As I used to be.  As a poor girl who once saved his life, and nearly lost her own, through being his true and faithful servant.”

“Faithful to him, but not to me.”

Jael’s face showed she did not understand this.

“Yes,” said Grace, bitterly, “you are the real cause of my marrying Mr. Coventry, whom I don’t love, and never can love.  There, read that.  I can’t speak to you.  You look all candor and truth, but I know what you are:  all the women in that factory knew about you and him—­read that.”  She handed her the anonymous letter, and watched her like an eagle.

Jael read the poison, and colored a little, but was not confounded.

“Do you believe this, Miss Carden?”

“I did not believe it at first, but too many people have confirmed it.  Your own conduct has confirmed it, my poor girl.  This is cruel of me.”

“Never mind,” said Jael, resolutely.  “We have gone too far to stop.  My conduct!  What conduct, if you please?”

“They all say that, when you found he was no more, you attempted self-destruction.”

“Ah,” cried Jael, like a wounded hare; “they must tell you that!” and she buried her face in her hands.

Now this was a young woman endowed by nature with great composure, and a certain sobriety and weight; so, when she gave way like that, it produced a great effect on those who knew her.

Grace sighed, and was distressed.  But there was no help for it now.  She awaited Jael’s reply, and Jael could not speak for some time.  She conquered her agitation, however, at last, and said, in a low voice, “Suppose you had a sister, whom you loved dearly—­and then you had a quarrel with her, and neither of you much to blame, the fault lay with a third person; and suppose you came home suddenly and found that sister had left England in trouble, and gone to the other end of the world—­would not that cut you to the heart?”