daresay she would have _liked_ to consult me about it, but then it would
scarcely have seemed right not to make mamma the first of course.'

And she answered so pleasantly that she and Frances had a duet they
wanted to practise before playing it to their mother, that Mrs Mildmay's
slight instinctive misgiving as to her elder daughter's docility and
reasonableness was for the time completely dispersed.

'To-morrow, you know, dear Jacinth, you are to drive with me,' said Lady
Myrtle, 'while your mother is going to have Francie and Eugene all to
herself.'

Perhaps the result of Mrs Mildmay's conversation with her hostess during
their drive that afternoon will be best shown by one of the letters
which the Robin Redbreast postbag carried off that very evening. It was
addressed to Mrs Harper at a certain number in a quiet bye-street in the
north-west of London, and ran thus:

ROBIN REDBREAST, THETFORD,
_May_ 4, 187-.

MY DEAR MRS HARPER--I write to you instead of to your
husband, Captain Harper, who is by birth my nephew, as I
understand that he might be upset by an unexpected letter,
being at present in a critical state of health. I regret
that it should be so, and that your anxieties should be
increased by other difficulties, and I enclose a draft on my
London bankers for L500, which will, I trust, relieve you
from your most pressing cares. I ask you to accept this in a
kindly spirit, though from a complete stranger. It is the
gift of an aged woman who is always glad to have the
privilege of helping those whose difficulties may become
privately known to her, as well as of responding to the many
public appeals for assistance. But it is not the gift of a
relative. From a certain date, now many years ago, my
brother Bernard Harper and all connected with him died to me
as completely as though he had never existed, and I feel it
only honest to put the matter in its true light at the risk
of wounding not unnatural susceptibilities. I ask you also
to accept my sincere good wishes for Captain Harper's
restoration to health, and I remain, yours faithfully,

MYRTLE CAMILLA GOODACRE.

It was a strange letter. And strange as it was, it had been more
eccentric still, but for Mrs Mildmay's strenuous efforts to soften its
expressions and