“Well, sir, I had hardly taken off my bonnet and shawl, when I was sent for by Mrs. Farnaby. ‘Have you unpacked your box yet?’ says she. I told her I hadn’t had time to do so. ‘You needn’t trouble yourself to unpack,’ says she. ‘You are no longer in Miss Regina’s service. There are your wages--with a month’s wages besides, in place of the customary warning.’ I’m only a poor girl, sir, but I up and spoke to her as plain as she spoke to me. ‘I want to know,’ I says, ‘why I am sent away in this uncivil manner?’ I couldn’t possibly repeat what she said. My blood boils when I think of it,” Phoebe declared, with melodramatic vehemence. “Somebody has found us out, sir. Somebody has told Mrs. Farnaby of your private meeting with Miss Regina in the shrubbery, and the money you kindly gave me. I believe Mrs. Ormond is at the bottom of it; you remember nobody knew where she was, when I thought she was in the house speaking to the cook. That’s guess-work, I allow, so far. What is certain is, that I have been spoken to as if I was the lowest creature that walks the streets. Mrs. Farnaby refuses to give me a character, sir. She actually said she would call in the police, if I didn’t leave the house in half an hour. How am I to get another place, without a character? I’m a ruined girl, that’s what I am--and all through You!” Threatened at this point with an illustrative outburst of sobbing Amelius was simple enough to try the consoling influence of a sovereign. “Why don’t you speak to Miss Regina?” he asked. “You know she will help you.” “She has done all she can, sir. I have nothing to say against Miss Regina--she’s a good creature. She came into the room, and begged, and prayed, and took all the blame on herself. Mrs. Farnaby wouldn’t hear a word. ‘I’m mistress here,’ she says; ‘you had better go back to your room.’ Ah, Mr. Amelius, I can tell you Mrs. Farnaby is your enemy as well as mine! you’ll never marry her niece if _she_ can stop it. Mark my words, sir, that’s the secret of the vile manner in which she has used me. My conscience is clear, thank God. I’ve tried to serve the cause of true love--and I’m not ashamed of it. Never mind! my turn is to come. I’m only a poor servant, sent adrift in the world without a character. Wait a little! you see if I am not even (and better than even) with Mrs. Farnaby, before long! _I know what I know._ I am not going to say any more than that. She shall rue the day,” cried Phoebe, relapsing into melodrama again, “when she turned me out of the house like a thief!” “Come! come!” said Amelius, sharply, “you mustn’t speak in that way.”