urs. I know you to be incapable
of anything worse than error and mistrust (and, till yesterday, I
could not have believed you capable of this much wrong): and you may
trust me to impute to you nothing worse than this. Suffering as I now
am, as we both are, under this error and mistrust, may I not implore
you, for your own sake (for mine it is too late), to nourish the weak
part of yourself, to question your own unworthy doubts, and to study
the best parts of the minds you meet, till you grow assured (as a
religious man ought to be) that there can be no self-interest, and
much less falsehood, mixed up with any real affection--with any such
affection as has existed between us two?

"I must not write more; for I do not know, I cannot conjecture, how
you may receive what I have written, thinking of me as you now do. It
seems strange to remember that at this time yesterday, in this very
chair, I was writing to you. Oh how differently! Is it possible that
it was only yesterday--such a world of misery as we have lived through
since? But I can write no more. It may be that you will despise me
in every line as you read: after what has happened, I cannot tell.
Notwithstanding all I have said about trusting, I feel at this moment
as if I could never depend on anything in this world again. If you
should come within this hour and explain all, how could I be sure that
the same thing might not happen again? But do not let this weigh a
moment with you, if indeed you think of coming. If I do not see you
to-day, I shall never see you. I will then bear in mind, as you
desire, and as I cannot help, that you love me still; but how little
comfort is there in such love, when trust is gone! God comfort us
both!

"Margaret Ibbotson."

Mrs Rowland was crossing the hall at the moment that her maid Betsy
opened the door to Mr Hope's errand-boy, and took in this letter.

"Where are you carrying that letter?" said she, as Betsy passed her.

"To the study, ma'am, against Mr Enderby comes in. It is for Mr
Enderby, ma'am."

"Very well."

The letter was placed on the study mantelpiece; the place of deposit for
letters for absent members of the family. Mrs Rowland meantime resumed
her seat in the drawing-room, where the nursemaid was amusing the baby.
Mamma took the baby, and sent the maid away. She had a strong belief
that her brother might be found somewhere in the shrubbery,