here. Hence
the delay. I can have no objection. Your letter does you
infinite honour. I presume you know that my niece has no
fortune.

Yours, most sincerely,

THOMAS UNDERWOOD.

"What a pity it is," said Sir Thomas, "that a man can't have a broken
arm in answering all letters. I should have had to write ever so much
had I been well. And yet I could not have said a word more that would
have been of any use."

Sir Thomas was kept an entire week at the Percycross Standard after
his election was over before the three doctors and the innkeeper
between them would allow him to be moved. During this time there was
very much discussion between the father and daughter as to Mary's
prospects; and a word or two was said inadvertently which almost
opened the father's eyes as to the state of his younger daughter's
affections. It is sometimes impossible to prevent the betrayal of a
confidence, when the line between betrayal and non-betrayal is finely
drawn. It was a matter of course that there should be much said about
that other Ralph, the one now disinherited and dispossessed, who
had so long and so intimately been known to them; and it was almost
impossible for Patience not to show the cause of her great grief.
It might be, as her father said, that the property would be better
in the hands of this other young man; but Patience knew that her
sympathies were with the spendthrift, and with the dearly-loved
sister who loved the spendthrift. Since Clarissa had come to speak
so openly of her love, to assert it so loudly, and to protest that
nothing could or should shake it, Patience had been unable not to
hope that the heir might at last prove himself worthy to be her
sister's husband. Then they heard that his inheritance was sold.
"It won't make the slightest difference to me," said Clary almost
triumphantly, as she discussed the matter with Patience the evening
before the journey to Percycross. "If he were a beggar it would be
the same." To Patience, however, the news of the sale had been a
great blow. And now her father told her that this young man had been
thinking of marrying another girl, a tailor's daughter;--that such a
marriage had been almost fixed. Surely it would be better that steps
should be taken to wean her sister from such a passion! But yet she
did not tell the secret. She only allowed a word to escape her, from
which it might be half surmised that Clarissa would be a sufferer.
"What difference