’An ally has just come.  Evan’s good fortune is most miraculous.  His low friend turns out to be a young Fortunatus; very original, sparkling, and in my hands to be made much of.  I do think he will—­for he is most zealous—­he will counteract that hateful Mr. Forth, who may soon have work enough.  Mr. Raikes (Evan’s friend) met a mad captain in Fallow field!  Dear Mr. Raikes is ready to say anything; not from love of falsehood, but because he is ready to think it.  He has confessed to me that Evan told him!  Louisa de Saldar has changed his opinion, and much impressed this eccentric young gentleman.  Do you know any young girl who wants a fortune, and would be grateful?

’Dearest!  I have decided on the pic-nic.  Let your conscience be clear, and Providence cannot be against you.  So I feel.  Mr. Parsley spoke very beautifully to that purpose last Sunday in the morning service.  A little too much through his nose, perhaps; but the poor young man’s nose is a great organ, and we will not cast it in his teeth more than nature has done.  I said so to my diplomatist, who was amused.  If you are sparklingly vulgar with the English, you are aristocratic.  Oh! what principle we women require in the thorny walk of life.  I can show you a letter when we meet that will astonish humdrum.  Not so diplomatic as the writer thought!  Mrs. Melville (sweet woman!) must continue to practise civility; for a woman who is a wife, my dear, in verity she lives in a glass house, and let her fling no stones.  “Let him who is without sin.”  How beautiful that Christian sentiment!  I hope I shall be pardoned, but it always seems to me that what we have to endure is infinitely worse than any other suffering, for you find no comfort for the children of T——­s in Scripture, nor any defence of their dreadful position.  Robbers, thieves, Magdalens! but, no! the unfortunate offspring of that class are not even mentioned:  at least, in my most diligent perusal of the Scriptures, I never lighted upon any remote allusion; and we know the Jews did wear clothing.  Outcasts, verily!  And Evan could go, and write —­but I have no patience with him.  He is the blind tool of his mother, and anybody’s puppet.’

The letter concludes, with horrid emphasis: 

’The Madre in Beckley!  Has sent for Evan from a low public-house!  I have intercepted the messenger.  Evan closeted with Sir Franks.  Andrew’s horrible old brother with Lady Jocelyn.  The whole house, from garret to kitchen, full of whispers!’

A prayer to Providence closes the communication.

CHAPTER XXVIII

TOM COGGLESEY’S PROPOSITION

The appearance of a curricle and a donkey-cart within the gates of Beckley Court, produced a sensation among the men of the lower halls, and a couple of them rushed out, with the left calf considerably in advance, to defend the house from violation.  Toward the curricle they directed what should have been a bow, but was a nod.  Their joint attention was then given to the donkey-cart, in which old Tom Cogglesby sat alone, bunchy in figure, bunched in face, his shrewd grey eyes twinkling under the bush of his eyebrows.