fell into a hurry towards the end of his performance,--as was his
wont. But the address of this letter was written in a pretty, small,
female hand,--very careful in the perfection of every letter, and
very neat in every stroke. It was from Mary Belton, between whom and
Clara there had never hitherto been occasion for correspondence. The
letter was as follows:--

Plaistow Hall, April, 186--.

MY DEAR COUSIN CLARA,

William has heard from your friends at Belton, who are
tenants on the estate, and as to whom there seems to be
some question whether they are to remain. He has written,
saying, I believe, that there need be no difficulty if
they wish to stay there. But we learn, also, from Mrs.
Askerton's letter, that you are expected at the cottage,
and therefore I will address this to Belton, supposing
that it may find you there.

You and I have never yet known each other;--which has
been a grief to me; but this grief, I hope, may be cured
some day before long. I myself, as you know, am such a
poor creature that I cannot go about the world to see my
friends as other people do;--at least, not very well; and
therefore I write to you with the object of asking you to
come and see me here. This is an interesting old house in
its way; and though I must not conceal from you that life
here is very, very quiet, I would do my best to make the
days pass pleasantly with you. I had heard that you were
gone to Aylmer Park. Indeed, William told me of his taking
you up to London. Now it seems you have left Yorkshire,
and I suppose you will not return there very soon. If it
be so, will it not be well that you should come to me for
a short time?

Both William and I feel that just for the present,--for
a little time,--you would perhaps prefer to be alone
with me. He must go to London for awhile, and then on to
Belton, to settle your affairs and his. He intends to be
absent for six weeks. If you would not be afraid of the
dullness of this house for so long a time, pray come to
us. The pleasure to me would be very great, and I hope
that you have some of that feeling, which with me is so
strong, that we ought not to be any longer personally
strangers to each other. You could then make up your mind
as to what you would choose to do afterwards. I think
that by the end of that time,--that is, when William
returns,--my uncl