'Then it is understood that for the present it is to go no further; and I will at once write to Mr Wentworth, inclosing him a copy of this;' taking the paper from her reluctant fingers. 'You will be very careful of it, Mary? Recollect how much depends'---- 'O yes; it will be safe enough,' I hurriedly replied, only anxious to make my escape before she could change her mind. Once in my room, with that paper in my own possession, I very quickly had my nerves under command, and was ready for business, sitting down to write my letter with a clear head and firm hand: 'MY DEAR MR WENTWORTH--In looking through a cabinet of her father's, Lilian just now found the original of the paper which I have copied, and inclose. _She_ sees in it only the vindication of Marian's mother, and rejoices accordingly. Unknown to Lilian, I have questioned Marian as to her age when her mother died. She insists that she was over five years old, and that her mother has been dead only fifteen years. If this be so, and this document is genuine, it is not _Marian's_ mother who has been wronged; and the former will be righted at the expense of our Lilian. You and I know that right will be done, be the cost what it may to her. I need not say on which side my sympathies are. I have not much hope; but hasten to send the paper for your consideration, and beg you to act for her. Please go first to Marian's aunt, Mrs Pratt, Green Street, Islington; and make sure about the dates of Marian's birth and her mother's death before you take measures to prove the validity of the marriage. I do not apologise for asking this of you. To do our best for Lilian is a real privilege to you and me, and I know that it is not necessary to beg you to lose no time.' A telegram was handed to me that night at tea-time--'_ROBERT WENTWORTH to MISS HADDON--Letter received, and I am at work._' I shewed it to Lilian, who returned it to me with a nod and smile. Dear old Mrs Tipper looked somewhat surprised and Marian curious; but surprised and curious they had to remain. Meantime the suspense was terrible to me; I was so restless and unlike my ordinary self, that I could do nothing, even in the way of occupying only my fingers. In my discomfort I was impolitic enough to offend Marian Reed as I had not yet done. The very sight of her irritated me, and her imperfections seemed more glaring than ever. I think I should have grudged allowing her credit for having a single good quality. A very slight event brought my indignation to a climax. 'That is Lilian's box,' I sharply exclaimed, as she turned the key in a little Indian box on one of the tables, and was turning over the contents.