should be inclined to think that the mortar will want repointing."

Mr. Packer had nothing to say to this. He was not responsible for the
building. He endeavoured to explain that the Marquis had nothing to
do with the work, and had simply given the land.

"Which was all that he could do," said the Vicar, laughing.

It was on the same day and while Packer was still standing close to
him, that Fanny Brattle accosted him. When he had greeted the young
woman and perceived that she wished to speak to him, he withdrew
within his own gate, and asked her whether there was anything that he
could do for her. She had a letter in her hand, and after a little
hesitation she asked him to read it. It was from her brother, and had
reached her by private means. A young man had brought it to her when
her father was in the mill, and had then gone off, declining to wait
for any answer.

"Father, sir, knows nothing about it as yet," she said.

Mr. Fenwick took the letter and read it. It was as follows:--

DEAR SISTER,

I want you to help me a little, for things is very bad
with me. And it is not for me neither, or I'd sooner
starve nor ax for a sixpence from the mill. But Carry is
bad too, and if you've got a trifle or so, I think you'd
be of a mind to send it. But don't tell father, on no
account. I looks to you not to tell father. Tell mother,
if you will; but I looks to her not to mention it to
father. If it be so you have two pounds by you, send it to
me in a letter, to the care of

Muster Thomas Craddock,
Number 5, Crooked Arm Yard,
Cowcross Street,
City of London.

My duty to mother, but don't say a word to father,
whatever you do. Carry don't live nowhere there, nor they
don't know her.

Your affectionate brother,

SAM BRATTLE.

"Have you told your father, Fanny?"

"Not a word, sir."

"Nor your mother?"

"Oh yes, sir. She has read the letter, and thinks I had better come
to you to ask what we should do."

"Have you got the money, Fanny?"

Fanny Brattle explained that she had in her pocket something over the
sum named, but that money was so scarce with them now at the mill,
that she could hardly send it without her father's knowledge. She
would not, she said, be afraid to send it and then to tell her father
afterwards. The Vicar considered the matter for some time, standing
with the open letter in his hand, and then he gave his advice.