In leaving the library, Horace had gone out by the door which led into the hall, and had failed to close it.

She plainly heard the bell--and a moment later (more plainly still) she heard Lady Janet's voice! She started to her feet.

Lady Janet's letter was still in the pocket of her apron--the letter which imperatively commanded her to abstain from making the very confession that had just passed her lips! It was near the dinner hour, and the library was the favorite place in which the mistress of the house and her guests assembled at that time.

It was no matter of doubt; it was an absolute certainty that Lady Janet had only stopped in the hall on her way into the room.
The alternative for Mercy lay between instantly leaving the library by the dining-room door--or remaining where she was, at the risk of being sooner or later compelled to own that she had deliberately disobeyed her benefactress.

Exhausted by what she had already suffered, she stood trembling and irresolute, incapable of deciding which alternative she should choose.
Lady Janet's voice, clear and resolute, penetrated into the room.