Needless to say she saw nothing to awaken her suspicions, for both Giles and Anne were most careful to hide their real feelings.
So far the situation was endurable, but it could not continue indefinitely. Anne made up her mind to leave.
On the day before New Year she was wondering what excuse she could make to get away when an incident happened which set her duty plainly before her and did away with all necessity for an excuse.
It occurred at breakfast.
The little man was fond of his meals, and enjoyed his breakfast more than any other.
He had the most wonderful arrangement for keeping the dishes hot—a rather needless proceeding, as he was invariably punctual.
So were Mrs. Morley and Anne, for breakfast being at nine o'clock they had no excuse for being late.
Nevertheless, Daisy rarely contrived to be in time, and Morley was much vexed by her persistent unpunctuality.
On this occasion she arrived late as usual, but more cheerful. She ever greeted Anne with a certain amount of politeness.
"There's a letter for you," said Morley, "but if you will take my advice you will leave it until breakfast is over.
I never read mine until after a meal.
Bad news is so apt to spoil one's appetite."
"How do you know the news will be bad?" asked Daisy.
"Most news is," replied Morley, with a shade on his usually merry face. "Debts, duns, and difficulties!" and he looked ruefully at the pile of letters by his plate. "I haven't examined my correspondence yet."
Anne said nothing, as she was thinking of what arrangement she could make to get away.
Suddenly she and the others were startled by a cry from Daisy.
The girl had opened the letter and was staring at it with a pale face.
Anne half rose from her seat, but Mrs. Morley anticipated her, and ran round to put her hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Daisy, what is the matter?"
"The—the—letter!" gasped Daisy, with chattering teeth. Then she cast a look full of terror at the astonished Anne. "She will kill me," cried the girl, and fell off the chair in a faint.
Morley hastily snatched up the letter.
It was unsigned, and apparently written in an uneducated hand on common paper.
He read it out hurriedly, while Anne and Mrs. Morley stood amazed to hear its contents.
"'Honored Miss,'" read Morley slowly, "'this is from a well-wisher to say that you must not trust the governess, who will kill you, because of G.
W. and the Scarlet Cross.'"
Anne uttered a cry and sank back into her chair white as the snow out of doors.
"The Scarlet Cross," she murmured, "again the Scarlet Cross." _____
CHAPTER III
A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR
Later in the day Mr. Morley called the three women into his library to have a discussion regarding the strange letter and its stranger accusation.
Daisy had recovered from her faint, but was still pale and obviously afraid of Anne.
The governess appeared perfectly composed, but her white face was as hard as granite.
Both Morley and his wife were much disturbed, as was natural, especially as at the moment Anne had refused any explanation.
Now Morley was bent on forcing her to speak out and set Daisy's mind at rest.
The state of the girl was pitiable.
The library was a large square apartment, with three French windows opening on to a terrace, whence steps led down to a garden laid out in the stiff Dutch style.
The room was sombre with oak and heavy red velvet hangings, but rendered more cheerful by books, photographs, and pictures.
Morley was fond of reading, and during his ten years' residence at The Elms had accumulated a large number of volumes.
Between the bookcases were trophies of arms, medi?val weapons and armor, and barbaric spears from Africa and the South Seas, intermixed with bows and clubs.
The floor was of polished oak, with here and there a brilliantly colored Persian praying-mat.
The furniture was also of oak, and cushioned in red Morocco leather.
Altogether the library gave evidence of a refined taste, and was a cross between a monkish cell and a sybarite's bower.
"Well, Miss Denham," said Morley, his merry face more than a trifle serious, "what have you to say?"
"There is nothing I can say," replied Anne, with composure, "the letter has nothing to do with me."
"My dear," put in Mrs. Morley, much distressed, "you cannot take up this attitude.
You know I am your friend, that I have always done my best for you, and for my sake, if not for Daisy's, you must explain."
"She won't—she won't," said Daisy, with an hysterical laugh.
"I would if I could," replied Anne, talking firmly, "but the accusation is ridiculous.
Why should I threaten Daisy?"
"Because you love Giles," burst out the girl furiously.