The poor gentleman was flabbergasted. He wanted to know what had
happened. They told him in one voice that it was nearly train-time and
that nothing had happened, and would he please hurry. When he
suggested that they should wait and see Mrs. Bingle, they asked him to
say good-bye for them, and made for the door, crowding one another
rudely in their eagerness to be off. Brown saved the situation for
herself and her companions by shrilly declaring that she would drop
him a line from New York, advising him where to send her money and the
reference, and for him not to bother now, she would trust him, of
course. And then they all trooped out of the library and rushed for
the front door. Three of them reached the outer air and were gone
forever, but one of them, Miss Stokes, was turned back by the
determined Watson, who clutched her by the arm and whispered a few
sharp, convincing sentences into her ear. She set down her suitcase
and began to cry, whereupon the footman kissed her and said that he'd
despise her if she didn't stand by Mr. Bingle now that he needed her
so much; and Stokes said that she was crying because she hated herself
for even thinking of leaving and that the other girls were the scum of
the earth, take it from her.

Well, it turned out that the two children had scarlet fever. Brown
happened to know that Imogene had been exposed to the disease during a
surreptitious visit to the cottage of the station agent, whose wife it
appears was a close friend of the nursemaid, and whose baby thrived
immensely on the rich foods from the Bingle establishment. So the
instant the rash appeared, Brown began packing her suitcase and trunk.
She tried to get away without letting the other girls into the secret,
but they suspected. What might have been a dignified resignation on
Brown's part, became a stampede.