This direct message from the young lover who had once been so near to her life moved Bettina to strange emotions. She was aware that Mr. Cortlin, the family lawyer, had written him that she was going away as soon as possible, and he had, of course, been informed of all the conditions of his cousin's will. Not one penny had been left him except what was his by legal right; but Lord Hurdly's personal fortune had been an inconsiderable part of the estate, so that Horace was now a man of great wealth as well as the bearer of an old and noble title. The signature to this telegram was one of the things that affected Bettina. The telegrams sent to the lawyers, the rector, and others had been signed "Hurdly." Several of these she had seen. It seemed to her, therefore, a very delicate instinct which had caused him to refrain from the use of her husband's name in addressing her. He had always been delicate in his intuitions and expressions, or at least so it had seemed. The effect of this telegram upon Bettina was to make her more confused and uncertain in her plans than she had been before. She felt a strong instinct to avoid meeting Horace again, and yet this telegram was in the form of a request, and she could hardly refuse to do him a favor. In the midst of her perplexity a servant brought word that Mr. Cortlin had arrived and asked to see her. When the lawyer entered, with his usual obsequious bow, Bettina received him with a rather cold civility. Her manner had become distinctly more haughty since her descent in the scale of social and pecuniary importance. Mr. Cortlin did not take the seat to which she invited him, but remained standing, with his hat in his hand, as he said: "A former client of mine, and friend of his late lordship, Mr. Fitzwilliam Clarke, who died about a year ago, left in my keeping a letter to your ladyship, which he instructed me to deliver in person upon the death of Lord Hurdly. I am come now, my lady, in the fulfilment of that trust." Bettina looked at him in amazement. "There must be some mistake," she said. "I know no Mr. Fitzwilliam Clarke. I have never even heard his name." "That may be, my lady, but there is no mistake. This letter was meant for you." Bettina took the letter he held out, and opened it with a certain incredulous haste. Mr. Cortlin at the same moment walked away to a window, and stood there with his back turned while Bettina read the following sentences: