She had made up her mind that things were to be so and so, and so and so they must of necessity turn out.

_Audi alteram partem_ was an idea that never occurred, never had occurred, in all her life to Henrietta Gascoigne.

In fact, she would never have believed there could be "another side," since she herself was not able to behold it.
Yet she had not a cruel nature, and the misery she endured during the few minutes that she sat thinking of the blow that was about to fall on Dr.Grey and his family, heaping on the picture every exaggerated imagination of a mind always prone to paint things in violent colors, was enough to atone for half the wrong she had done.
She started up like a guilty creature when the door opened, and Phillis entered with a letter in her hand.
"Beg pardon, ma'am, I thought you were Mrs.Grey." "She is just gone up stairs--will be back directly," said Miss Gascoigne, anxious to keep up appearances to the last available moment.

"Is that letter for her?
Shall I give it to her ?" "No, thank you, I'll give it myself; and it'll be the last that ever I will give, for it isn't my business," added Phillis, flustered and indignant, so much so that she dropped the letter on the floor.
By the light of the small taper there was a mutual search for it--why mutual Miss Gascoigne best knew.

It was she who picked it up, and before she had delivered it back she had clearly seen it all-- handwriting, seal and tinted envelope, with the initials "E.