her, she was a thoroughly sound, exceedingly honest Christian gentlewoman of thirty-eight.
Sarah, it seemed, having heard Muriel's story, had taken counsel of the dowager. And at once realizing the extreme gravity of the whole affair, both ladies determined to make the most of a long-sought opportunity to give the housekeeper her quietus. Sarah herself, who was inclined to be embittered and vindictive on this particular point, fell in only too readily with Aunt Charlotte's desire to take full advantage of such a golden chance. Called upon now to divulge all that she knew, the eldest daughter re-told Muriel's remarkable story of her meeting with Mrs. Sanderson, Jack and the girl, in the course of political endeavors at Laxton. The story, amazing as it was, was undoubtedly authentic.
"Of course, father," was Sarah's conclusion, very pointedly expressed, "she will simply have to go. And the sooner the better, as no doubt you agree."
To Sarah's deep annoyance, however, her sire seemed very far from agreeing.
"There is no direct evidence of collusion," he said. "And knowing Mrs. Sanderson to be an old and tried servant, who has always had our welfare at heart, I am very unwilling to place such a construction upon what may be no more than a rather odd coincidence."
Sarah was too deeply angry to reply. But she looked on grimly while the ruthless Charlotte showly marshaled her forces. The quarrel was a very pretty one. Yet the Duke, now his back was to the wall, was able to take excellent care of himself. Moreover, he flatly declined to hear a worthy woman traduced until she had
