The news soon spread; indeed, I walked to several places where I knew it would be circulated, and before morning all Greenwich knew that Mrs. St. Felix had been left a fortune:  some said ten thousand pounds, others had magnified it to ten thousand a year.  When I called upon her the next day, I found that she had made arrangements for carrying on her business during her absence, not having stated that she quitted forever, but that she would write and let them know as soon as she arrived in Ireland what her decision would be, as she was not aware what might be the property left her.  The doctor, who had undertaken to conduct her affairs during her absence, looked very woebegone indeed, and I pitied him; he had become so used to her company that he felt miserable at the idea of her departure, although all hopes of ever marrying her had long been dismissed from his mind.  Mrs. St. Felix told me that she would be ready that evening, and I returned home and found Virginia in tears; her mother had again assailed her on account of her feelings toward Mrs. St. Felix; and Virginia told me that she was crying at the idea of Mrs. St. Felix going away much more than at what her mother had said; and she requested me to walk with her to Mrs. St. Felix that she might wish her farewell.

When we arrived Mrs. St. Felix embraced Virginia warmly, and took her into the little back parlor.  Virginia burst into tears.  “You are the only friend in the town that I dearly love,” said she, “and now you are going.”

“My dear girl, I am more sorry to part with you and Tom than I can well express—­our pain is mutual, but we shall meet again.”

“I see no chance of that,” said Virginia, mournfully.

[Illustration:  SIR J. O’CONNOR AND MRS. ST. FELIX.—­Marryat, Vol.  X., p. 467.]

“But I do; and what is more, I have thought about it since I have had the news.  Tom, your sister, of course, only knows the common report?”

“Of course she knows no more than anybody else.”

“Well, you do, at all events; and I give you leave, as I know she is to be trusted, to confide my secret to her.  And, Virginia dear, when I tell you that I shall want you to come and stay with me, and shall arrange accordingly, after you have heard what your brother has to tell you you will understand that we may meet again.  Good-by, and God bless you, dearest; go away now, for I have much to do.”

When I told Virginia what the reader is well acquainted with, her joy was excessive.  “Yes,” said she, “I see now.  My mother is so anxious that I should be taken into some grand family as a companion; and when Lady O’Connor agrees to receive me, she will never have an idea that it is Mrs. St. Felix.  If she had, nothing would induce her to let me go, that I am sure of; for she has taken an aversion to her for reasons known only to herself.”

I returned to Mrs. St. Felix’s house as soon as I had escorted Virginia home, leaving her very happy.  The doctor was there, mute and melancholy; and I was thinking that we should have some difficulty in getting rid of him, when Tom made his appearance.