“Well, it may be so, my dear, for I remember when he first came to England that he used to ride out sometimes with a Major Dawson and his daughters. Pretty young creatures they were! Too young then for anything of the kind, but they must be growing quite fine women now.” After hearing such remarks as these, Florence would grow eager for her aunt’s reply; and she certainly had some cause for her impatience in the length of time she had to wait before it arrived. Mrs. Blunden was in Paris, and apologized for her silence by saying that she had been greatly worried by the loss of her jewel box and the subsequent arrest of the thief. “I could not settle down to anything,” she said, “until this matter was over, for between my dread of an innocent person being falsely accused and unwillingness to let the guilty one escape unpunished, my mind has been greatly excited. I’m very angry with you, Florence; it’s my duty to be so, for though I freely forgive you for the wicked falsehoods you wrote to me about your poor uncle’s legacy, I cannot pardon the folly that has made you penniless and a dependent. As to coming to me, it is what you ought to have done directly upon the decease of my poor, foolish brother. But as I am in dear and uncomfortable lodgings, and fully resolved to leave this nasty, frivolous city as soon as the weather permits of the journey, why, don’t come. You are in good hands, and can stay quietly at Orwell Court until I join you there. You don’t seem to be aware that I know Mr. Aylwinne. I met him in Italy when I was on my way to Nice, and fairly harassed to death with the extortions of the innkeepers. I had provided myself with a tariff of the charges made at a respectable London hotel, and I was as firmly resolved to abide by this as the horrid, chattering Italians were to cheat me. After I had explained myself to Mr. Aylwinne, I had no more trouble, as he paid the bills for me. They could not take the same advantage of a resolute man as they had been attempting with an unprotected female. How did you make Mr. Aylwinne’s acquaintance? I found that he knew your father, but he so evidently avoided speaking of him that I was obliged to conclude he had lost money through some of my brother’s mad speculations. Is it so? And to what amount? And why do you thank me for sending you a hundred pounds while your father was ill at Brompton? I did not send it. No one had the grace to write and acquaint me with his illness. I shall come to England as soon as I can; so au revoir,” etc.