She understood that Rhoda had said in effect, "If Miss Quincey goes, I go too." Nevertheless her mind was made up; in tissue paper, all ready for Miss Quincey.
Unfortunately tissue paper is more or less transparent, and Miss Quincey had no difficulty in perceiving the grounds of her dismissal when presented to her in this neat way.

Not even when Miss Cursiter said to her, at the close of the interview they had early the next morning, "For your own sake, dear Miss Quincey, I feel we must forego your valuable--most valuable services." Miss Cursiter hesitated, warned by something in the aspect of the tiny woman who had been a thorn in her side so long.

Somehow, for this occasion, the most incompetent, most insignificant member of her staff had contrived to clothe herself with a certain nobility.

She was undeniably the more dignified of the two.
The Head, usually so eloquent at great moments, found actual difficulty in getting to the end of her next sentence.
"What I was thinking of--really again entirely for your own sake--was whether it would not be better for you to take a little longer holiday.

I do feel in your case the imperative necessity for rest.