“You will excuse me for reminding you, Sir Percival, that if the servants go to-morrow they must have a month’s wages in lieu of a month’s warning.”

“Let them!  A month’s wages saves a month’s waste and gluttony in the servants’ hall.”

This last remark conveyed an aspersion of the most offensive kind on my management.  I had too much self-respect to defend myself under so gross an imputation.  Christian consideration for the helpless position of Miss Halcombe and Lady Glyde, and for the serious inconvenience which my sudden absence might inflict on them, alone prevented me from resigning my situation on the spot.  I rose immediately.  It would have lowered me in my own estimation to have permitted the interview to continue a moment longer.

“After that last remark, Sir Percival, I have nothing more to say.  Your directions shall be attended to.”  Pronouncing those words, I bowed my head with the most distant respect, and went out of the room.

The next day the servants left in a body.  Sir Percival himself dismissed the grooms and stablemen, sending them, with all the horses but one, to London.  Of the whole domestic establishment, indoors and out, there now remained only myself, Margaret Porcher, and the gardener—­this last living in his own cottage, and being wanted to take care of the one horse that remained in the stables.

With the house left in this strange and lonely condition—­with the mistress of it ill in her room—­with Miss Halcombe still as helpless as a child—­and with the doctor’s attendance withdrawn from us in enmity—­it was surely not unnatural that my spirits should sink, and my customary composure be very hard to maintain.  My mind was ill at ease.  I wished the poor ladies both well again, and I wished myself away from Blackwater Park.

II

The next event that occurred was of so singular a nature that it might have caused me a feeling of superstitious surprise, if my mind had not been fortified by principle against any pagan weakness of that sort.  The uneasy sense of something wrong in the family which had made me wish myself away from Blackwater Park, was actually followed, strange to say, by my departure from the house.  It is true that my absence was for a temporary period only, but the coincidence was, in my opinion, not the less remarkable on that account.

My departure took place under the following circumstances—­

A day or two after the servants all left I was again sent for to see Sir Percival.  The undeserved slur which he had cast on my management of the household did not, I am happy to say, prevent me from returning good for evil to the best of my ability, by complying with his request as readily and respectfully as ever.  It cost me a struggle with that fallen nature, which we all share in common, before I could suppress my feelings.  Being accustomed to self-discipline, I accomplished the sacrifice.