Emma
wouldn't take anything, not if she was dying of starvation, but I've
got my children to think of. So that's all I have to say, and I'm
glad I've said it.--Yours truly, KATE CLAY.'
Adela remained standing for a few moments when she had finished the
letter, then went slowly to her room.
Alice returned from the garden in a short time. In passing through
the hall she looked again at the two letters which remained. Neither
of them had a sinister appearance; being addressed to the Manor they
probably came from personal friends. She went to the drawing-room
and glanced around for Adela, but the room was empty. Richard would
not be home for an hour yet; she took up a novel and tried to pass
the time so, but she had a difficulty in fixing her attention. In
the end she once more left the house, and, after a turn or two on
the lawn, strolled out of the gate.
She met her brother a hundred yards along the road. The sight of her
astonished him.
'What's up now, Princess?' he exclaimed. 'House on fire? Novels run
short?'
'Something that I expect you won't care to hear. Who do you think's
been writing to Adela? Someone in London.'
Richard stayed his foot, and looked at his sister with the eyes
which suggested disagreeable possibilities.
'Who do you mean?' he asked briefly.
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