ed, of terrible suspense to her. When she took it to the
post-office, she doubtless thought that the baker's wife had nothing
to do but to send it up to the house at Greshamsbury, and that Frank
would receive it that evening, or, at latest, early on the following
morning. But this was by no means so. The epistle was posted on a
Friday afternoon, and it behoved the baker's wife to send it into
Silverbridge--Silverbridge being the post-town--so that all due
formalities, as ordered by the Queen's Government, might there be
perfected. Now, unfortunately, the post-boy had taken his departure
before Mary reached the shop, and it was not, therefore, dispatched
till Saturday. Sunday was always a _dies non_ with the Greshamsbury
Mercury, and, consequently, Frank's letter was not delivered at the
house till Monday morning; at which time Mary had for two long days
been waiting with weary heart for the expected answer.

Now Frank had on that morning gone up to London by the early train,
with his future brother-in-law, Mr Oriel. In order to accomplish
this, they had left Greshamsbury for Barchester exactly as the
postboy was leaving Silverbridge for Greshamsbury.

"I should like to wait for my letters," Mr Oriel had said, when the
journey was being discussed.

"Nonsense," Frank had answered. "Who ever got a letter that was worth
waiting for?" and so Mary was doomed to a week of misery.

When the post-bag arrived at the house on Monday morning, it was
opened as usual by the squire himself at the breakfast-table. "Here
is a letter for Frank," said he, "posted in the village. You had
better send it to him:" and he threw the letter across the table to
Beatrice.

"It's from Mary," said Beatrice, out loud, taking the letter up and
examining the address. And having said so, she repented what she had
done, as she looked first at her father and then at her mother.

A cloud came over the squire's brow as for a minute he went on
turning over the letters and newspapers. "Oh, from Mary Thorne, is
it?" he said. "Well, you had better send it to him."

"Frank said that if any letters came they were to be kept," said his
sister Sophy. "He told me so particularly. I don't think he likes
having letters sent after him."

"You had better send that one," said the squire.

"Mr Oriel is to have all his letters addressed to Long's Hotel, Bond
Street, and this one can very well be sent with them," said Beatrice,
who knew all about it, and intended