Chapter 12

On the very next day Miss Starbrow was herself again apparently, and the
old life was resumed just where it had been broken off. But although
outwardly things went on in the old way, and her mistress was not unkind,
and she had her daily walk, her reading, sewing, and embroidery to fill
her time, the girl soon perceived that something very precious to her had
been lost in the storm, and she looked and waited in vain for its
recovery. In spite of those reassuring well-remembered words Mary had
spoken to her, the old tender affection and confidence, which had made
their former relations seem so sweet, now seemed lost. Mary was not
unkind, but that was all. She did not wish Fan to read to her, or give
her any assistance in dressing, or to remain long in her room, but
preferred to be left alone. When she spoke, her words and tone were not
ungentle, but she no longer wished to talk, and after a few minutes she
would send her away; and then Fan, sad at heart, would go to her own
room--that large back room where her bed had been allowed to remain, and
where she worked silent and solitary, sitting before her own fire.

One day, just as she came in from her morning walk, a letter was left by
the postman, and Fan took it up to her mistress, glad always of an excuse
to go to her--for now some excuse seemed necessary.

Miss Starbrow, sitting moodily before her fire in her bedroom, took it;
but the moment she looked at the writing she started as if a snake had
bitten her, and flung the letter into the fire. Then, while watching it
blaze up, she suddenly exclaimed:

"I was a fool to burn it before first seeing what was in it!"

Before she finished speaking Fan darted her hand into the flame, and
tossing the burning letter on the rug, stamped out the fire with her
foot. The envelope and the outer leaf of the letter were black and
charred, but the inner leaf, which was the part written on, had not
suffered.

"Thanks, Fan; that was clever," said Miss Starbrow, taking it; and then
proceeded to read it, holding it far from her face as if her eyesight had
suddenly fallen into decay.

Dear Pollie [ran the letter], When I saw that girl back in your
house I knew that it would be all over between us. It is a terrible
thing for me to lose you in that way, but there is no help for it now;
I know that you will not forgive me. But I don't wish you to think of
me worse than I deserve. You know as well as I do that since you took
Fan into the house you have changed towards me, and that without
quite throwing me over you made it as uncomfortable for me as you
could. As things did not improve, I became convinced that as long as
you had her by you it would continue the same, so I resolved to get