in the matter as I was, for between you and I his gratitude, as they say of some people’s, is apt to squint with one eye to the future as well as one to the past--you comprehend?” Helen was not clear that she comprehended all that had been said; still less had she any idea what she could have to do in this matter; she waited for further explanation. “Now all I want from you then, Miss Hanley--Stanley I would say, I beg pardon, I’m the worst at proper names that lives--but all I want of you, Miss Hanley, is--first, your opinion as to the validity of the handwriting,--well, you are positive, then, that this _mis-sent_ is her hand. Now then, I want to know, do you think Lady Davenant knew what she was about when she wrote it?” Helen’s eyes opened to their utmost power of distension, at the idea of anybody’s questioning that Lady Davenant knew what she was about. “La! my dear,” said Lady Bearcroft; “spare the whites of your eyes, I didn’t mean she didn’t know what she was about in _that_ sense.” “What sense?” said Helen. “Not in any particular sense,” replied Lady Bearcroft. “But let me go on, or we shall never come to an understanding; I only meant that her ladyship might have just sat down to answer my note, as I often do myself, without having read the whole through, or before I have taken it in quite.” Helen thought this very unlikely to have happened with Lady Davenant. “But still it might have happened,” continued Lady Bearcroft, “that her ladyship did not notice the delicacy of the way in which the thing was _put_--for it really was put so that nobody could take hold of it against any of us--you understand; and after all, such a curiosity of a Sevigné as this, and such fine ‘di’monds,’ was too pretty, and too good a thing to be refused hand-over-head, in that way. Besides, my note was so respectable, and respectful, it surely required and demanded something more of an answer, methinks, from a person of birth or education, than the single bald word ‘mis-sent,’ like the postman! Surely, Miss Hanley, now, putting your friendship apart, candidly you must think as I do? And, whether or no, at least you will be so obliging to do me the favour to find out from Lady Davenant if she really made the reply with her eyes open or not, and really meant what she said.” Helen being quite clear that Lady Davenant always meant what she said, and had written with her eyes open, declined, as perfectly useless, making the proposed inquiry. It was plain that Lady Davenant had not thought proper to accept of this present, and to avoid any unpleasant explanations, had presumed it was not intended for her, but had been sent by mistake. Helen advised her to let the matter rest.