It was on a Saturday that John Mortimer received his son’s proposal for retrenchment; on the Wednesday succeeding it Valentine, sitting at breakfast at Melcombe, opened the following letter, and was amused by the old-fashioned formality of its opening sentence:—­

“Wigfield, June 15th, 18—.

“My dear Nephew,—­It is not often that I take up my pen to address you, for I know there is little need, as my niece Emily writes weekly.  Frequently have I wondered what she could find to write for; indeed, it was not the way in my youth for people to waste so much time saying little or nothing—­which is not my case at the present time, for your sister being gone on the Continent, it devolves upon me, that is not used to long statements, to let ye know, what ye will be very sorry to hear.  I only hope it may be no worse before it is over.

“Matthew, the coachman, came running over to me on Monday morning last, and said would I come to the house, for the servants did not know what to be at, and told me that Johnnie, who had been to go back to Harrow by the eleven o’clock train, had got leave to drive the pheaton to the Junction with the four girls in it, and Bertram, who, by ill luck—­of I may use such a word (meaning no irreverence)—­of this dispensation of Providence, had not gone back to Mr. Tikey’s that morning.  So far as I can make out, he thought he should be late, and so he turned those two spirited young horses down that steep sandy lane by the wood, to cut off a corner; and whether the woodman’s children ran out and frightened them, or whether he was shouting and whooping himself, poor laddie—­for I heard something of both—­but Barbara was just sobbing her heart away when she told it, and he aye raised the echoes wherever he went; but the horses set off, running away, tearing down that rough road.  Johnnie shouted to them all to sit still, and so they did, though they were almost jolted out; and if they had been let alone, there might have been no accident; but two men sprung out of a hedge and tried to stop them, and they turned on to the common, and sped away like the wind towards home, till they came to the sand bank by the small inn, the Loving Cup, and there they upset the carriage, and when the two men got up to it Johnnie and all of them were tossed out, and the carriage was almost kicked to pieces by the horse that was not down.

“This is a long tale, Valentine, and I seem to have hardly begun it.  I must take another sheet of paper.  When I got to the house, you never saw such a scene.  Johnnie had been brought in quite stunned, and his face greatly bruised.  There were two doctors already with them.  Bertram had got a broken arm; he was calling out, poor little fellow, and Nancy was severely hurt, but I was grieved to see her so quiet.  Gladys seemed at first to be only bruised and limping; but she and Barbara were faint and sick with fright.  Janie was not present; she had been carried into the inn; but I may as well tell ye that in her case no bones were broken, poor lamb.  She is doing very well, and in a day or two is to be brought home.