"I am afraid, Mrs. Sanderson," she said, "that in these circumstances only one course is open to you now."
She was too adroit, however, to state exactly what that cause was. She was content merely to suggest it. But Harriet did not need to be told what the particular alternative was that her ladyship had in mind.
"You wish me to resign my position," she said, in a low calm voice. She turned with tears in her eyes to the eldest daughter of the house. "I beg leave to give a month's notice from today, my lady. If you would like me to go sooner, I will do so at any time you wish."
The words and manner showed a consideration wholly lacking in the measure meted out to herself. There was so little of pride or of wounded dignity that the tears were running in a stream down the pale cheeks. Uppermost in Harriet Sanderson was still a feeling of profound veneration for those to whom she had dedicated the best years of her life.
IV
The ladies of the Family had won the day. Mrs. Sanderson was going. It was an occasion for rejoicing. She had intrigued disgracefully; moreover, it had long felt that this clever, unscrupulous, plausible woman had gained a dangerous ascendancy over the head of the house. But Aunt Charlotte, it seemed, with the tactical skill for which she was famous, had driven her into a corner and had forced her to surrender.
In the opinion of Sarah, Mrs. Sanderson had behaved very well. It was, of course, impossible to trust
