Those papers of mine which you saw mentioned in the _Times_--I am glad Mr. Johnston read them; or at least you suppose he did. I believe they are doing good, and that my name is becoming pretty well known in connection with them, especially in this town. A provincial reputation has its advantages; it is more undoubted--more complete. In London, a man may shirk and hide; his nearest acquaintance can scarcely know him thoroughly; but in the provinces it is different. There, if he has a flaw in him, either as to his antecedents, his character, or conduct, be sure scandal will find it out; for she has every opportunity. Also, public opinion is at once stricter and more narrow-minded in a place like this than in a great metropolis. I am glad to be earning a good name here, in this honest, hard-working, commercial district, where my fortunes are apparently cast; and where, having been a "rolling stone" all my life, I mean to settle and "gather moss," if I can. Moss to make a little nest soft and warm for--my love knows who. Writing this, about the impossibility of keeping anything secret in a town like this, reminds me of something which I was in doubt about telling you or not: finally, I have decided that I will tell you. Your sister being absent, will make things easier for you. You will not have need to use any of those concealments which must be so painful in a home. Nevertheless, I do think Miss Johnston ought to be kept ignorant of the fact that I believe, nay, am almost certain, Mr. Francis Charteris is at this present time living in Liverpool. No wonder that all my inquiries about him in London failed. He has just been discharged from this very gaol. It is more than likely he was arrested for liabilities long owing; or contracted after his last fruitless visit to his uncle, Sir William. I could easily find out, but hardly consider it delicate to make inquiries, as I did not, you know, after the debtor--whom a turnkey here reported to have said he knew me. Debtors are not criminals by law--their ward is justly held private. I never visit any of them unless they come into hospital. Therefore my meeting with Mr. Charteris was purely accidental. Nor do I believe he recognised me--I had stepped aside into the warder's room. The two other discharged debtors passed through the entrance-gate, and quitted the gaol immediately; but he lingered, desiring a car to be sent for--and inquiring where one could get handsome and comfortable lodgings in this horrid Liverpool. He hated a commercial town. You will ask, woman-like, how he looked? Ill and worn, with something of the shabby, "poor gentleman" aspect, with which we here are only too familiar. I overheard the turnkey joking with the carman about taking him to "handsome rooms." Also, there was about him an ominous air of what we in Scotland call the "down-draught;" a term, the full meaning of which you probably do not understand--I trust you never may. *****