Amelia declared she had not, but desired she would question her no farther. “What signifies how I discovered it, since your hand it certainly is?” “I own it is,” cries Mrs. Bennet, recovering her spirits, “and since you have not shewn it to that woman I am satisfied. I begin to guess now whence you might have your information; but no matter; I wish I had never done anything of which I ought to be more ashamed. No one can, I think, justly accuse me of a crime on that account; and I thank Heaven my shame will never be directed by the false opinion of the world. Perhaps it was wrong to shew my letter, but when I consider all circumstances I can forgive it.” “Since you have guessed the truth,” said Amelia, “I am not obliged to deny it. She, indeed, shewed me your letter, but I am sure you have not the least reason to be ashamed of it. On the contrary, your behaviour on so melancholy an occasion was highly praiseworthy; and your bearing up under such afflictions as the loss of a husband in so dreadful a situation was truly great and heroical.” “So Mrs. Ellison then hath shewn you my letter?” cries Mrs. Bennet eagerly. “Why, did not you guess it yourself?” answered Amelia; “otherwise I am sure I have betrayed my honour in mentioning it. I hope you have not drawn me inadvertently into any breach of my promise. Did you not assert, and that with an absolute certainty, that you knew she had shewn me your letter, and that you was not angry with her for so doing?” “I am so confused,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that I scarce know what I say; yes, yes, I remember I did say so--I wish I had no greater reason to be angry with her than that.” “For Heaven’s sake,” cries Amelia, “do not delay my request any longer; what you say now greatly increases my curiosity, and my mind will be on the rack till you discover your whole meaning; for I am more and more convinced that something of the utmost importance was the purport of your message.” “Of the utmost importance, indeed,” cries Mrs. Bennet; “at least you will own my apprehensions were sufficiently well founded. O gracious Heaven! how happy shall I think myself if I should have proved your preservation! I will, indeed, explain my meaning; but, in order to disclose all my fears in their just colours, I must unfold my whole history to you. Can you have patience, madam, to listen to the story of the most unfortunate of women?” Amelia assured her of the highest attention, and Mrs. Bennet soon after began to relate what is written in the seventh book of this history. BOOK VII. Chapter i. _A very short chapter, and consequently requiring no preface._