She had not been faithless, like the Faithless Emma of the song, for she had never cared for anyone but Tom Chandler, had never given the smallest encouragement to another. Oliver had only deluded himself. To his heart, filled and blinded with its impassioned love, her open, pleasing manners had seemed to be a response, and so he had mistaken her. That was all. But this is sentiment, which the world, having grown enlightened of late years, practically despises; and we must go on to something more sensible and serious. The answer sent by Mr. Preen to John Paul of Islip brought forth an answer in its turn. It was to the effect that Mr. Paul had not seen anything of the letter spoken of by Mr. Preen, or of the money it was said to contain. This reached Duck Brook on the Saturday morning. Mr. Preen, more puzzled this time than angry, could not make it out. "Oliver," said he, "which day was it last week that I wrote that letter to Paul of Islip, enclosing a ten-pound note?" "I don't remember," carelessly replied Oliver. They had not yet settled to work, and Oliver was stretched out at the open window, talking to a little dog that was leaping up outside. "Not remember!" indignantly echoed Mr. Preen. "My memory is distracted with a host of cares, but yours has nothing to trouble it. Bring your head in, sir, and attend to me properly." Oliver dutifully brought his head in, his face red with stooping. "What was it you asked me, father? I did not quite catch it," he said. "I asked you if you could remember which day I sent that money to Paul. But I think I remember now for myself. It was the day after I received the bank-note from Mr. Todhetley. That was Monday. Then I sent the letter to Paul with the bank-note in it on the Tuesday. You sealed it for me." "I remember quite well that it was Tuesday--two days before the picnic," said Oliver. "Oh, of course; a picnic is a matter to remember anything by," returned Mr. Preen, sarcastically. "Well, Paul says he has never received either money or letter." "The letter was posted----" began Oliver, but his father impatiently interrupted him. "Certainly it was posted. You saw me post it." "It was too late for the evening's post; Dame Sym said it would go out the next morning," went on Oliver. "Are Paul's people sure they did not receive it?" "Paul tells me so. Paul is an exact man, and would not tolerate any but exact clerks about him. He writes positively." "I suppose Mrs. Sym did not forget to forward it?" suggested Oliver. "What an idiot you are!" retorted his father, by way of being complimentary. "The letter must have gone out safely enough." Nevertheless, after Mr. Preen had attended to his other letters and to two or three matters they involved, he put on his hat and went to Mrs. Sym's.