s features. All
this, however, lasted but half a minute. Then he chucked the letter,
lightly, in among the tea-cups, and coming to her took her closely in
his arms and almost hurt her by the violence of his repeated kisses.

"Has he written kindly?" she said, as soon as she could find her
breath to speak.

"By George, he's a brick after all. I own I did not think it. My
darling, how much I owe you for all the trouble I have given you."

"Oh, Ferdinand! if he has been good to you I shall be so happy."

"He has been awfully good. Ha, ha, ha!" And then he began walking
about the room as he laughed in an unnatural way. "Upon my word it is
a pity we didn't say four thousand, or five. Think of his taking me
just at my word. It's a great deal better than I expected; that's all
I can say. And at the present moment it is of the utmost importance
to me."

All this did not take above a minute or two, but during that minute
or two she had been so bewildered by his manner as almost to fancy
that the expressions of his delight had been ironical. He had been
so unlike himself as she had known him that she almost doubted the
reality of his joy. But when she took the letter and read it, she
found that his joy was true enough. The letter was very short, and
was as follows:--

MY DEAR EMILY,

What you have said under your husband's instruction about
money, I find upon consideration to be fair enough. I
think he should have spoken to me before his marriage; but
then again perhaps I ought to have spoken to him. As it
is, I am willing to give him the sum he requires, and I
will pay L3000 to his account, if he would tell me where
he would have it lodged. Then I shall think I have done
my duty by him. What I shall do with the remainder of any
money that I may have, I do not think he is entitled to
ask.

Everett is well again, and as idle as ever. Your aunt Roby
is making a fool of herself at Harrogate. I have heard
nothing from Herefordshire. Everything is very quiet and
lonely here.

Your affectionate father,

A. WHARTON.

As he had dined at the Eldon every day since his daughter had left
him, and had played on an average a dozen rubbers of whist daily, he
was not justified in complaining of the loneliness of London.

The letter seemed to Emily herself to be very cold, and had not her
husband rejoiced over it so warmly she would have considered it to be
unsatisfactory.