“A thousand thanks, oh my brother.”  Then she kissed him again, and after that he went.  She accompanied him to the top of the stairs, and from thence showered blessings on his head till she heard the lock of the door closed behind him.  When he was altogether gone she unlocked an inner drawer in her desk, and, taking out an uncompleted rouleau of gold, added her brother’s sovereigns thereto.  The sum he had given her was exactly wanted to make up the required number of twenty-five.  She counted them half a dozen times to be quite sure, and then rolled them carefully in paper, and sealed the little packet at each end.  “Ah!” she said, speaking to herself, “they are very nice.  Nothing else English is nice, but only these.”  There were many rolls of money there before her in the drawer of the desk—­some ten, perhaps, or twelve.  These she took out one after another, passing them lovingly through her fingers, looking at the little seals at the ends of each, weighing them in her hand as though to make sure that no wrong had been done to them in her absence, standing them up one against another to see that they were of the same length.  We may be quite sure that Sophie Gordeloup brought no sovereigns with her to England when she came over with Lady Ongar after the earl’s death, and that the hoard before her contained simply the plunder which she had collected during this her latest visit to the “accursed” country which she was going to leave.

But before she started she was resolved to make one more attempt upon that mine of wealth which, but a few weeks ago, had seemed to lie open before her.  She had learned from the servants in Bolton Street that Lady Ongar was with Lady Clavering at Clavering Park, and she addressed a letter to her there.  This letter she wrote in English, and she threw into her appeal all the pathos of which she was capable.

    Mount Street, October 186—­

Dearest Julie:—­I do not think you would wish me to go away from this country forever—­forever, without one word of farewell to her I love so fondly.  Yes, I have loved you with all my heart, and now I am going away—­forever.  Shall we not meet each other once, and have one embrace?  No trouble will be too much to me for that.  No journey will be too long.  Only say, Sophie, come to your Julie.

I must go, because I am so poor.  Yes, I can not live longer here without the means.  I am not ashamed to say to my Julie, who is rich, that I am poor.  No; nor would I be ashamed to wait on my Julie like a slave if she would let me.  My Julie was angry with me because of my brother!  Was it my fault that he came upon us in our little retreat, where we were so happy?  Oh, no.  I told him not to come.  I knew his coming was for nothing—­nothing at all.  I knew where was the heart of my Julie—­my poor Julie!  But he was not worth that heart, and the pearl was thrown before a pig.  But my brother—­Ah! he has ruined me.