“Mrs. Bellingham presents her compliments to her unknown correspondent, Mr. Benson, and begs to inform him of a circumstance of which she believes he was ignorant when he wrote the letter with which she has been favoured; namely, that provision to the amount of L 50 was left for the unfortunate young person who is the subject of Mr. Benson’s letter.  This sum is in the hands of Mrs. Morgan, as well as a note from Mrs. Bellingham to the miserable girl, in which she proposes to procure her admission into the Fordham Penitentiary, the best place for such a character, as by this profligate action she has forfeited the only friend remaining to her in the world.  This proposition Mrs. Bellingham repeats; and they are the young woman’s best friends who most urge her to comply with the course now pointed out.”

“Take care Mr. Bellingham hears nothing of this Mr. Benson’s note,” said Mrs. Bellingham, as she delivered the answer to her maid; “he is so sensitive just now that it would annoy him sadly, I am sure.”

CHAPTER XI

THURSTAN AND FAITH BENSON

You have now seen the note which was delivered into Mr. Benson’s hands, as the cool shades of evening stole over the glowing summer sky.  When he had read it, he again prepared to write a few hasty lines before the post went out.  The post-boy was even now sounding his horn through the village as a signal for letters to be ready; and it was well that Mr. Benson, in his long morning’s meditation, had decided upon the course to be pursued, in case of such an answer as that which he had received from Mrs. Bellingham.  His present note was as follows;—­

“Dear faith,—­You must come to this place directly, where I earnestly desire you and your advice.  I am well myself, so do not be alarmed.  I have no time for explanation, but I am sure you will not refuse me; let me trust that I shall see you on Saturday at the latest.  You know the mode by which I came; it is the best both for expedition and cheapness.  Dear Faith, do not fail me.—­

“Your affectionate brother.  Thurstan Benson.

“P.S.—­I am afraid the money I left may be running short.  Do not let this stop you.  Take my Facciolati to Johnson’s, he will advance upon it; it is the third row, bottom shelf.  Only come.”

When this letter was despatched he had done all he could; and the next two days passed like a long monotonous dream of watching, thought, and care, undisturbed by any event, hardly by the change from day to night, which, now the harvest moon was at her full, was scarcely perceptible.  On Saturday morning the answer came—­

“Dearest Thurstan,—­Your incomprehensible summons has just reached me, and I obey, thereby proving my right to my name of Faith.  I shall be with you almost as soon as this letter.  I cannot help feeling anxious, as well as curious.  I have money enough, and it is well I have; for Sally, who guards your room like a dragon, would rather see me walk the whole way, than have any of your things disturbed.—­Your affectionate sister,”