I wonder
Constance is so blind. She is quite satisfied now that his letter
has come." On behalf of the elder generation she rather resented
Constance's eagerness to write in answer.
But Constance was not so blind. Constance thought exactly as
Sophia thought. In her heart she did not at all justify or excuse
Cyril. She remembered separately almost every instance of his
carelessness in her regard. "Hope I didn't worry, indeed!" she
said to herself with a faint touch of bitterness, apropos of the
phrase in his letter.
Nevertheless she insisted on writing at once. And Amy had to bring
the writing materials.
"Mr. Cyril is coming down on Wednesday," she said to Amy with
great dignity.
Amy's stony calmness was shaken, for Mr. Cyril was a great deal to
Amy. Amy wondered how she would be able to look Mr. Cyril in the
face when he knew that she had given notice.
In the middle of writing, on her knee, Constance looked up at
Sophia, and said, as though defending herself against an
accusation: "I didn't write to him yesterday, you know, or to-
day."
"No," Sophia murmured assentingly.
Constance rang the bell yet again, and Amy was sent out to the
post.
Soon afterwards the bell was rung for a fourth time, and not
answered.
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