by blots, but
had otherwise nothing to distinguish it.

"That is not an illiterate letter," said Miss Halcombe, "and at the
same time, it is surely too incoherent to be the letter of an educated
person in the higher ranks of life. The reference to the bridal dress
and veil, and other little expressions, seem to point to it as the
production of some woman. What do you think, Mr. Hartright?"

"I think so too. It seems to me to be not only the letter of a woman,
but of a woman whose mind must be----"

"Deranged?" suggested Miss Halcombe. "It struck me in that light too."

I did not answer. While I was speaking, my eyes rested on the last
sentence of the letter: "Your mother's daughter has a tender place in
my heart--for your mother was my first, my best, my only friend." Those
words and the doubt which had just escaped me as to the sanity of the
writer of the letter, acting together on my mind, suggested an idea,
which I was literally afraid to express openly, or even to encourage
secretly. I began to doubt whether my own faculties were not in danger
of losing their balance. It seemed almost like a monomania to be
tracing back everything strange that happened, everything unexpected
that was said, always to the same hidden source and the same sinister
influence. I resolved, this time, in defence of my own courage and my
own sense, to come to no decision that plain fact did not warrant, and
to turn my back resolutely on everything that tempted me in the shape
of surmise.

"If we have any chance of tracing the person who has written this," I
said, returning the letter to Miss Halcombe, "there can be no harm in
seizing our opportunity the moment it offers. I think we ought to
speak to the gardener again about the elderly woman who gave him the
letter, and then to continue our inquiries in the village. But first
let me ask a question. You mentioned just now the alternative of
consulting Mr. Fairlie's legal adviser to-morrow. Is there no
possibility of communicating with him earlier? Why not to-day?"

"I can only explain," replied Miss Halcombe, "by entering into certain
particulars, connected with my sister's marriage-engagement, which I
did not think it necessary or desirable to mention to you this morning.
One of Sir Percival Glyde's objects in coming here on Monday, is to fix
the period of his marriage, which has hitherto been left quite
unsettled. He is anxious that the event should take place before the