s one of the people whom
experience never makes any wiser; and she could not help hoping to be
delivered from her troubles this time, as so often before, as soon as
she should have transferred them to somebody else's shoulders, and taken
"advice."

"Lucy has made up her mind that we are to go to-morrow," said Miss
Wodehouse, drying her tears. "It was not the custom in my young days,
Mr Wentworth, and I am sure I don't know what to say; but I can't bear
to cross her, now that she has nobody but me. She was always the best
child in the world," said the poor lady--"far more comfort to poor
dear papa than I ever could be; but to hear her talk you would think
that she had never done anything. And oh, Mr Wentworth, if that was
all I should not mind; but we have always kept things a secret from
her; and now I have had a letter, and I don't know what it is possible
to do."

"A letter from your brother?" asked Mr Wentworth, eagerly.

"From Tom," said the elder sister; "poor, poor Tom! I am sure papa
forgave him at the last, though he did not say anything. Oh, Mr
Wentworth, he was such a nice boy once; and if Lucy only knew, and I
could summon up the courage to tell her, and he would change his ways,
as he promised--don't think me fickle or changeable, or look as if I
didn't know my own mind," cried poor Miss Wodehouse, with a fresh flow
of tears; "but oh, Mr Wentworth, if he only would change his ways, as
he promised, think what a comfort it would be to us to have him at
home!"

"Yes," said the Curate, with a little bitterness. Here was another
instance of the impunities of wickedness. "I think it very likely
indeed that you will have him at home," said Mr Wentworth--"almost
certain; the wonder is that he went away. Will you tell me where he
dates his letter from? I have a curiosity to know."

"You are angry," said the anxious sister. "Oh, Mr Wentworth, I know he
does not deserve anything else, but you have always been so kind. I
put his letter in my pocket to show you--at least, I am sure I
intended to put it in my pocket. We have scarcely been in this room
since--since--" and here Miss Wodehouse broke down, and had to take a
little time to recover. "I will go and get the letter," she said, as
at last she regained her voice, and hurried away through the partial
darkness with her noiseless step, and the long black garments which
swept noiselessly over the carpet. Mr Wentworth for his part went to
the one window which was