Mrs. Belassis pondered over this communication; but Betsy had not come to the end of her revelations, and did not give her mistress much time for thought. ‘There’s something about that foreign gentleman as master doesn’t like, _I_ know,’ continued the girl; ‘for he hadn’t long gone before master shut himself up in his study to write letters. He was there up till the dressing-bell rang; and just as I was going in for the letters, which is part of my work—I collects them from the ladies and from master, and puts them in the box ready for the man—I met him coming out of his room. “There’s only one letter, Betsy,” he said; and so there was, and he’d only just finished it, for the ink wasn’t hardly dry; and it was addressed to “Miss Marjory Descartes,” at a place beginning with W. I can’t remember the name.’ ‘Whitbury?’ suggested Mrs. Belassis, looking aroused and almost excited. ‘Go on, Betsy; I see you have more to tell. You have been very clever, and I shall not forget it.’ Betsy curtseyed, and drew a few steps nearer, as she made her next communication in a lowered voice. ‘I turned the letter over; and it had been done up so quickly that the gum hadn’t hardly stuck. I gave a little pull, and it came open in my hands.’ A look of intense interest came over Mrs. Belassis’ face. ‘And you read the letter? What did it say?’ ‘Well, ma’am, I’m no particular scholar, and the letter was too long for me to read through. I was in a mortal fear as somebody would come and catch me. If it hadn’t been dressing-time, I’d not have dared to do so much as I did.’ ‘Well, go on, Betsy. What did you make out?’ ‘The master, he wrote all about the foreign gentleman, and I’m main sure he didn’t like his coming, not a bit. He talked about danger, and not understanding what was coming, and ended up by asking the lady to come and see him. I couldn’t make out no more than that; but I’m quite sure as it was all about the strange gentleman, and that master had been regular put about by his coming.’ ‘Ah!’ said Mrs. Belassis, and said no more, because her thoughts were too confused as yet to admit of the interpretation of words. Betsy, who saw that she had made an impression, proceeded to deepen it. She was enjoying very much her own cleverness, and the sense of importance that her position gave to her.