‘Dorothy,’ she said at last, about noon, ’I have been over hasty about your mother and this man.  I am sorry for it, and must beg everybody’s pardon.’

‘I knew mamma would do nothing wrong,’ said Dorothy.

’To do wrong is human, and she, I suppose, is not more free than others; but in this matter I was misinformed.  I shall write and beg her pardon; and now I beg your pardon.’

‘Not mine, Aunt Stanbury.’

’Yes, yours and your mother’s, and the lady’s also for against her has the fault been most grievous.  I shall write to your mother and express my contrition.’  She put off the evil hour of writing as long as she could, but before dinner the painful letter had been written, and carried by herself to the post.  It was as follows: 

’The Close, August 9, 186-.

Dear Sister Stanbury,

I have now learned that the information was false on which my former letter was based.  I am heartily sorry for any annoyance I may have given you.  I can only inform you that my intentions were good and upright.  Nevertheless, I humbly beg your pardon.

Yours truly,

Jemima Stanbury.’

Mrs Stanbury, when she received this, was inclined to let the matter drop.  That her sister-in-law should express such abject contrition was to her such a lowering of the great ones of the earth, that the apology conveyed to her more pain than pleasure.  She could not hinder herself from sympathising with all that her sister-in-law had felt when she had found herself called upon to humiliate herself.  But it was not so with Priscilla.  Mrs Stanbury did not observe that her daughter’s name was scrupulously avoided in the apology; but Priscilla observed it.  She would not let the matter drop, without an attempt at the last word.  She therefore wrote back again as follows: 

’Nuncombe Putney, August 4, 186-.

Dear aunt Stanbury,

I am glad you have satisfied yourself about the gentleman who has so much disquieted you.  I do not know that the whole affair would be worth a moment’s consideration, were it not that mamma and I, living as we do so secluded a life, are peculiarly apt to feel any attack upon our good name which is pretty nearly all that is left to us.  If ever there were women who should be free from attack, at any rate from those of their own family, we are such women.  We never interfere with you, or with anybody; and I think you might abstain from harassing us by accusations.

Pray do not write to mamma in such a strain again, unless you are quite sure of your ground.

Yours truly,

Priscilla Stanbury.’

‘Impudent vixen!’ said Miss Stanbury to Martha, when she had read the letter.  ‘Ill-conditioned, impudent vixen!’

‘She was provoked, miss,’ said Martha.

’Well; yes; yes and I suppose it is right that you should tell me of it.  I dare say it is part of what I ought to bear for being an old fool, and too cautious about my own flesh and blood.  I will bear it.  There.  I was wrong, and I will say that I have been justly punished.  There there!’