“Right, right,” said Mr. Palmer; “confidence is the best proof of love; and yours, I’ll venture to say, is, and ever will be, well placed.” Captain Walsingham, with a grateful smile, took his letter again out of his pocket, and immediately began to read it in a low voice to Amelia, Lady Hunter, and Mr. Palmer. * * * * * “DEAR SIR, “Though almost a stranger to you, I should think myself wanting in gratitude if I did not, after all the services you have done my family, write to thank you in my niece’s name and in my own: and much I regret that my words will so ill convey to you the sentiments of our hearts. I am an old woman, not well accustomed to use my pen in the way of letter-writing; but can say truly, that whilst I have life I shall be grateful to you. You have restored me to happiness by restoring to me my long-lost niece. It will, I am sure, give you satisfaction to hear, that my niece--” * * * * * Captain Walsingham stopped short, with a look which confirmed Lady Hunter in all her suspicions,--which made Mr. Palmer take out his snuff-box,--which startled even Mr. Beaumont; but which did not raise in the mind of Amelia the slightest feeling of doubt or suspicion. She smiled, and looked round at her alarmed friends with a manner which seemed to say, “Can you suppose it possible that there can be any thing wrong?” “Pray go on, Captain Walsingham,” said Lady Hunter, “unless--unless you have particular, very particular reasons.” “I have particular, very particular reasons,” said Captain Walsingham; “and since,” turning to Amelia, “this confiding lady does not insist upon my going on--” “Oh!” said Lady Hunter, gaily, snatching the letter, “I am not such a credulous, or, as you call it, confiding lady.” “I beg of your ladyship not to read it,” said Captain Walsingham, in an earnest tone. “You beg of me not to read it, and with that alarmed look--Oh! positively, I must, and will read it.” “Not at present, then, I entreat you!” “This very instant,” cried Lady Hunter, affecting all the imperious vivacity of a young bride, under favour of which she determined to satisfy her malicious curiosity. “Pray, Lady Hunter, do not read it,” repeated Captain Walsingham, laying his hand over the letter. “It is for your own sake,” added he, in a low and earnest voice, “it is for your own sake, not mine, that I beg of you to forbear.” Lady Hunter, imagining this to be only a subterfuge, drew the letter from beneath Captain Walsingham’s hand, exclaiming, “For _my sake!_ Oh, Captain, that is a charming _ruse de guerre_, but do not hope that it shall succeed!” “Oh! mother, believe him, believe him,” cried Amelia: “I am sure he tells you the truth, and he speaks for your sake, not for his own.” Amelia interceded in vain. Mr. Palmer patted Amelia’s shoulder fondly, saying, “You are a dear good creature.”