I have one more thing that I ought to say.  You will remember that I intended to pay my aunt’s legacy immediately after her death, but that I was prevented by circumstances which I could not control.  I have paid it now into Mr Green’s hands on your account, together with the sum of œ59 18s 3d., which is due upon it as interest at the rate of 5 per cent.  I hope that this may be satisfactory.’  ’It is not satisfactory at all,’ said Clara, putting down the letter, and resolving that Will Belton should be instructed to repay the money instantly.  It may, however, be explained here that in this matter Clara was doomed to be disappointed; and that she was forced, by Mr Green’s arguments, to receive the money.  ‘Then it shall go to the hospital at Perivale,’ she declared when those arguments were used.  As to that, Mr Green was quite indifferent, but I do not think that the legacy which troubled poor Aunt Winterfield so much on her dying bed was ultimately applied to so worthy a purpose.

And now, my dear Miss Amedroz,’ continued the letter, ’I will say farewell, with many assurances of my unaltered esteem, and with heartfelt wishes for your future happiness.  Believe me to be always,

Most faithfully and sincerely yours,

Frederic F. Aylmer.

‘Esteem!’ said Clara, as she finished the letter.  ’I wonder which he esteems the most, me or Lady Emily Tagmaggert.  He will never get beyond esteem with any one.

The letter which was last read was as follows: 

Plaistow, August 186 .

Dearest Clara,

I don’t think I shall ever get done, and I am coming to hate farming.  It is awful lonely here, too, and I pass all my evenings by myself, wondering why I should be doomed to this kind of thing, while you and Mary are comfortable together at Belton.  We have begun with the wheat, and as soon as that is safe I shall cut and run.  I shall leave the barley to Bunce.  Bunce knows as much about it as I do and as for remaining here all the summer, it’s out of the question.

My own dear, darling love, of course I don’t intend to urge you to do anything that you don’t like; but upon my honour I don’t see the force of what you say.  You know I have as much respect for your father’s memory as anybody, but what harm can it do to him that we should be married at once?  Don’t you think he would have wished it himself?  It can be ever so quiet.  So long as it’s done, I don’t care a straw how it’s done.  Indeed, for the matter of that, I always think it would be best just to walk to church and to walk home again without saying anything to anybody.  I hate fuss and nonsense, and really I don’t think anybody would have a right to say anything if we were to do it at once in that sort of way.  I have had a bad time of it for the last twelvemonth.  You must allow that, and I think that I ought to be rewarded.