s began his speech very
well, but became rather misty towards the end, when he found himself
unable to reduce Mary to a state of feminine confusion. "My dear," he
began, "I have received a letter which I think it is my duty to read
to you."

"A letter, uncle?"

"Yes, my dear. Sit down while I read it. I may as well tell you at
once that it is a letter which has given me very great satisfaction.
It is from a young gentleman;"--upon hearing this announcement Mary's
face assumed a look of settled, collected strength, which never left
it for a moment during the remainder of the interview,--"yes; from a
young gentleman, and I may say that I never read a letter which I
thought to be more honourable to the writer. It is from Mr. Ralph
Newton,--not the Ralph with whom you have found us to be so intimate,
but from the other who will some day be Mr. Newton of Newton Priory."
Then Sir Thomas looked into his niece's face, hoping to see there
something of the flutter of expectant triumph. But there was neither
flutter nor triumph in Mary's countenance. He read the letter,
sitting up in his bed, with his left arm in a sling, and then he
handed it to her. "You had better look at it yourself, my dear." Mary
took the letter, and sat as though she were reading it. It seemed
to Sir Thomas that she was reading it with the cold accuracy of a
cautious attorney;--but in truth her eyes did not follow a single
word of the letter. There was neither flutter nor triumph in her
face, or in the movement of her limbs, or in the quiet, almost
motionless carriage of her body; but, nevertheless, the pulses of her
heart beat so strongly, that had all depended on it she could not
have read a word of the letter. "Well, my dear," said Sir Thomas,
when he thought that ample time had been given for the perusal. Mary
simply folded the paper together and returned it into his hands. "I
have told him, as I was bound to do, my dear, that as far as I was
concerned, I should be happy to receive him; but that for any other
answer, I must refer him to you. Of course it will be for you to give
him what answer your heart dictates. But I may say this,--and it
is my duty to say it as your guardian and nearest relative;--the
way in which he has put forward his request shows him to be a most
honourable man; all that I have ever heard of him is in his favour;
he is a gentleman every inch of him; and as for his prospects in
life, they are such that they entitle him to addr