Mr. Bantom could read, but not with ease and rapidity; he could write, too, but his hand was bold and slightly irregular. He was very nervous this morning and the handwriting of the superscription was so delicate a fairy might have penned it. He looked at his wife, opened the envelope, and took out a sheet of delicate note paper, which he unclosed. It contained a Bank of England note, which, with trembling fingers, Bantom spread wide. “A fi’pun note, ’ep my goodness!” he exclaimed, with astonishment. He mechanically handed the paper which had contained the note to the footman. “You looks like a good scholard,” he observed;”’jes’ read that pretty writing for me.” The footman, with a supercilious smile, not sorry to be put in possession of the contents of the note, read asfollows:-- _Lotte sends her “kindest love to Mr. and Mrs. Bantom, and begs them to forgive her for any uneasiness she may have occasioned them. She desires to assure them that though ill, she is quite safe._” “A-hah-ha-ah!--ah-a-hah-a!” burst from Bantom’s lips, sounds composed of hysterical laughter, and a genuine cry, although the latter was the offspring of joy alone. Mrs. Bantom flung her apron over her head, that the tears she shed might not be visible to the strange young man in violet. She had small need to be ashamed of the honest tears of happiness at the communication thus received of Lotte’s safety. The footman was rather indignant at this interruption, he saw nothing as he said to “’owl at,” and he requested them to be quiet while he read the remaining’ contents of the note. They obeyed him, an occasional sigh and sniff from Mrs. Bantom being the only further interruption. The note went on to say that Lotte would see them shortly, but in part payment of what she was indebted to them, she inclosed the note, hoping they would believe she would never forget their kindness to her. There was joy in Bantom’s house that day. His shop was better stocked than usual, and many of the very poor were allowed to have credit, which, under ordinary circumstances, Bantom could not have afforded. Lotte, on being recovered from her swoon, though very feeble and under strong injunctions not to speak, could not rest until she had unfolded her true condition to Flora, and begged her to let the Bantoms, at least know that she was safe; that her mysterious absence, as nearly as possible, might be accounted for. We have seen in what manner Flora complied with her wish. A few days and the tender care and kindness of Flora Wilton were rewarded by the rapidly returning strength of Lotte. She was able to leave her room and to walk in the garden with Flora. These walks in the soft fresh air did much to revive her; the garden was so prettily laid out, the flowers so profuse and beautiful--she loved flowers passionately--that it afforded her considerable pleasure to stroll there in company with her kind friend.