Early on the fourth day Mrs. Oliphant called, and brought Theodora a letter. She professedly came to ask Theodora to drive with her, and when her invitation was declined, did not remain many minutes. But Mrs. Campbell watched her coming and going, and made plenty of sarcastic remarks about both the lady and her dress, her carriage and her horses and servants. Isabel was scarcely conscious of them. Since the loss of her sister she had become still more severe, intense, and reticent; besides which, though no one suspected the movement, Isabel was considering a break in social custom, undreamed of by the severely proper maidens of her set. It related to Sir Thomas Wynton. She had had a letter from him describing his journey to Paris, and his present life in that city, and he had asked Isabel to write him "all the news she could gather about Wynton village, and their friends in Glasgow, and to add also anything social, political, or religious she thought would interest him." And this request had opened up a pleasant prospect of collecting and arranging all the news she could glean from people, or from newspapers, and then writing the result to Sir Thomas. It was a wild, a daring thing for Isabel Campbell to attempt, but she had resolved to ask no one's advice about the right or the wrong of it. She would decide the matter for herself, and she was trying to do so while her mother was mocking at Mrs. Oliphant's dress and general appearance. Meantime Theodora watched her friend away, and then went into her parlor, locking the door after closing it. David was busy with his slate and pencil in the music room, and she locked the door of that room also. Then she sat down with her letter in her hand, and after a moment's uplifting of her heart, she opened it and read the following words: