"If you please, my lady," said Mistress Megrim, "I should like to quit your ladyship\'s service."

"How?" cried Lady Standish, waking with a start out of the heavy sleep of trouble, and propping herself upon her elbow, to gaze in blinking astonishment at the irate pink countenance of her woman. Lady Standish looked very fair and young, poor little wife, with her half-powdered curls of hair escaping in disorder from the laces of her nightcap, and her soft blue eyes as full of uncomprehending grief as a frightened baby\'s.

Mistress Megrim gazed upon her coldly and her old-maid\'s heart hardened within her.

"No, your ladyship," said she, with a virtuous sniff, "I shouldn\'t feel as I was doing my duty to her ladyship, your mother, nor to my humble self, were I to remain an hour longer than I could help, the Handmaid of Sin."

"Oh, dear," said Lady Standish, letting herself fall back on her pillows with a weary moan, "I do wish you\'d hold your tongue, woman, and allow me to rest! Pull the curtain again; oh, how my head aches!"

"Very well, my lady," ejaculated Megrim, all at once in a towering passion. "Since you\'re that hardened, my lady, that a sign from Heaven couldn\'t melt your heart—I allude to that man of God, his lordship the Bishop (oh, what a holy gentleman that is!); and, my lady, me and Mistress Tremlet saw him out of the pantry window as he shook the dust of this House of Iniquity from his shoes; if that vessel of righteousness could not prevail with your ladyship, what hopes have I that you\'ll hear the voice of the Lord through me?"

"Megrim, hold your tongue," said her mistress in unwontedly angered tones, "pull the curtains and go away!"

With a hand that trembled with fury Mistress Megrim fell upon the curtains and rattled them along their pole. Then she groped her way to Lady Standish\'s bedside and stood for some seconds peering malevolently at her through the darkness.

"I wouldn\'t believe it, my lady," she hissed in a ghastly whisper, "although indeed I might have known that such a gentleman as Sir Jasper would never have taken on like that if he hadn\'t had grounds. But you\'ve mistaken your woman, when you think you can make an improper go-between of me! Oh," cried she, with a rigid shudder, "I feel myself defiled as with pitch, that these fingers should actually have touched sich a letter!"

"For goodness sake," moaned the lady from her pillows, "what are you talking about now?"

"My lady," said Megrim sepulchrally, "when that minx with her face muffled up in a hood, came and had the brazen boldness to ask for me this morning, saying she had some lace of your ladyship\'s from the mender\'s, and that it was most particular and must be given into my hands alone, my mind misgave me. \'Twas like an angel\'s warning. The more so as there isn\'t a scrap of your ladyship\'s lace as has been to the mender\'s since we came here."

"Mercy, Megrim, how you do ramble on! I can\'t make head or tail of your stupid story." Even a dove will peck.

"Ho, do I, my lady! Can\'t you indeed? Perhaps your ladyship will understand better when I tell her, that that same bold thing had no lace at all—but a letter. \'Give it to your mistress,\' says she, \'in secret, and for your life don\'t let Sir Jasper see it.\'"

"Well, give it to me," said Lady Standish, "and hold your tongue, and go and pack your trunks as soon as you like."

"Ho, my lady," cried the incorruptible Megrim, with an acid laugh, "I hope I know my Christian duty better. I brought the letter to my master, according to the Voice of Conscience. And now," she concluded, with a shrill titter, "I\'ll go and pack my trunks."

Yet she paused, expecting to enjoy Lady Standish\'s outburst of terror and distress. There was no sign from the bed, however, not even a little gasp. And so Mistress Megrim was fain to depart to her virtuous trunks without even that parting solace.

Meanwhile, with the pillow of her spotless conscience to rest upon, and deadened to fresh disturbances by the despairing reflection that nothing for the present could make matters much worse between her and her husband, Lady Standish, without attempting to solve the fresh problem, determinedly closed her weary eyes upon the troubles of the world and drifted into slumber again.

*****

"I shall catch them red-handed," said Sir Jasper.

This time all doubt was over: in his hand lay the proof, crisp and fluttering. He read it again and again, with a kind of ghastly joy. Unaddressed, unsealed, save by a foolish green wafer with a cupid on it, the document which Mistress Megrim\'s rigid sense of duty had delivered to him instead of to his guilty wife, was indited in the self-same dashing hand as marked the crumpled rag that even now burned him through his breast-pocket like a fly-blister.


"I never got a wink of sleep, dreaming of you, dearest dear, so soon to be my own at last! The chay shall be drawn by horses such as Phoebus himself, my darling, would have envied. And, so you fail me not, we shall soon be dashing through the night&............