“I thought so,” said Mr. Belamour, when she returned to him with intelligence.  “Little did my poor brother guess how long it would be unopened!  Will my gentle friend confer another obligation on me?”

Aurelia made her ready assent, hoping to be asked to read the letter, when he continued, “I cannot read this myself.  Even could I bear the light, the attempt to fix my eyes sends darts shooting through my brain, which would take away my very power of comprehension.  But,” he continued, “there are only two men living to whom I could entrust my brother’s last words to me.  One, your own good father, is out of reach; the other has frequently proffered his good offices and has been rejected.  Would you add to your kindness that of writing to entreat my old friend, Dr. Godfrey, to favour with a visit one who has too often and ungratefully refused him admission.”

Feminine curiosity felt balked, but Aurelia was ashamed of the sensation, and undertook the task.  Instructions were given her that she was to write—­

“If Amyas Belamour’s old Schoolfellow and Friend can overlook and pardon the undeserved Rebuffs to His Constancy and Solicitude for a lonely and sullen Wretch, and will once more come and spend a Night at Bowstead, he will confer an inestimable Favour upon one who is more sensible of his Goodness than when it has been previously offered.”

This letter, written in Aurelia’s best Italian hand, on a large sheet of paper, she brought with her the next evening.  She was bidden to fold down the exact place for the signature, which Mr. Belamour proceeded to affix, and she was then to carry it to the candles in the lobby, and there fold, seal, and address it to the Reverend Edward Godfrey, D.D., Canon of Windsor, Windsor.  She found the A. Belamour very fairly written except that it was not horizontal, and she performed the rest of the task with ladylike dexterity, sealing it with a ring that had been supplied for the purpose.  It did not, as she expected, bear the Belamour sheaf of arrows, but was a gem, representing a sleeping Cupid with folded wings, so beautiful that she asked leave to take another impression for Harriet, who collected seals, after the fashion of the day.

“You are welcome,” Mr. Belamour replied.  “I doubt its great antiquity, since the story of Cupid and Psyche cannot be traced beyond Apuleius.  I used it because Dr. Godfrey will remember it.  He was with me at Rome when I purchased it.”

The ring was of the size for a lady’s finger, and Aurelia durst ask no more.

How the letter was sent she knew not, but Mrs. Aylward was summoned to Mr. Belamour’s room, and desired to have a room ready at any time for his friend.