ng merit of not committing anybody to anything.
An anonymous letter, to all appearance written by a servant: it was the
very thing! Most likely it would result in a searching inquiry by Lady
Honoria, in which event Elizabeth, of course against her will, would
be forced to say what she knew; almost certainly it would result in a
quarrel between husband and wife, which might induce the former to show
his hand, or even to take some open step as regards Beatrice. She was
sorry for Geoffrey, against whom she had no ill feeling, but it could
not be helped; he must be sacrificed.

That very evening she wrote her letter and sent it to be posted by
an old servant living in London. It was a master-piece in its way,
especially phonetically. This precious epistle, which was most
exceedingly ill writ in a large coarse hand, ran thus:

"My Ladi,--My consence druvs me to it, much again my will. I've tried
hard, my ladi, not to speek, first acorse of miss B. as i heve knowed
good and peur and also for the sakes of your evil usband that wulf in
scheeps cloathin. But when i think on you my ladi a lorful legel wife
gud and virtus and peur and of the things as i hev seen which is enuf
to bring a blush to the face of a stater, I knows it is my holy dooty to
rite your ladishipp as follers. Your ladishipp forgif me but on the nite
of whittsundey last Miss B. Grainger wint after midnite inter the room
of your bad usband--as I was to mi sham ther to se. Afterward more
nor an hour, she cum out ain being carred _in his harmes_. And if your
ladishipp dont believ me, let your ladishipp rite to miss elizbeth, as
had this same misfortune to see as your tru frend,

"The Riter."

In due course this charming communication reached Lady Honoria, bearing
a London post-mark. She read and re-read it, and soon mastered its
meaning. Then, after a night's thought, she took the "Riter's" advice
and wrote to Elizabeth, sending her a copy of the letter (her own),
vehemently repudiating all belief in it, and asking for a reply that
should dissipate this foul slander from her mind for ever.

The answer came by return. It was short and artful.

"Dear Lady Honoria Bingham," it ran, "you must forgive me if I decline
to answer the questions in your letter. You will easily understand that
between a desire to preserve a sister's reputation and an incapacity (to
be appreciated by every Christian) to speak other than the truth--it
is possible for a person to be placed