was a woman's--at
least it was not likely that a man should think of addressing an
anonymous letter to a young lady, and so wreaking his hatred upon
Lord Kew. "Besides, Frank has had no rivals--except--except one young
gentleman who has carried his paint-boxes to Italy," says Lady Kew. "You
don't think your dear Colonel's son would leave such a piece of mischief
behind him? You must act, my dear," continued her ladyship, "as if this
letter had never been written at all; the person who wrote it no doubt
will watch you. Of course we are too proud to allow him to see that we
are wounded; and pray, pray do not think of letting poor Frank know a
word about this horrid transaction."

"Then the letter is true?" burst out Ethel. "You know it is true,
grandmamma, and that is why you would have me keep it a secret from my
cousin; besides," she added, with a little hesitation, "your caution
comes too late, Lord Kew has seen the letter."

"You fool!" screamed the old lady, "you were not so mad as to show it to
him?"

"I am sure the letter is true," Ethel said, rising up very haughtily.
"It is not by calling me bad names that your ladyship will disprove it.
Keep them, if you please, for my Aunt Julia; she is sick and weak,
and can't defend herself. I do not choose to bear abuse from you, or
lectures from Lord Kew. He happened to be here a short while since,
when the letter arrived. He had been good enough to come to preach me a
sermon on his own account. He to find fault with my actions!" cried
Miss Ethel, quivering with wrath and clenching the luckless paper in her
hand. "He to accuse me of levity, and to warn me against making improper
acquaintances! He began his lectures too soon. I am not a lawful slave
yet, and prefer to remain unmolested, at least as long as I am free."

"And you told Frank all this, Miss Newcome, and you showed him that
letter?" said the old lady.

"The letter was actually brought to me whilst his lordship was in the
midst of his sermon," Ethel replied. "I read it as he was making his
speech," she continued, gathering anger and scorn as she recalled
the circumstances of the interview. "He was perfectly polite in his
language. He did not call me a fool or use a single other bad name. He
was good enough to advise me and to make such virtuous pretty speeches,
that if he had been a bishop he could not have spoken better; and as
I thought the letter was a nice commentary on his lordship's sermon, I
gave it