'At least I have not known her long enough to find them out; but you, no doubt, will, when you know her, very readily spare me that trouble.'
How injudiciously had Maynard prepared the minds of his sisters to admire Adeline. It was a preparation to make them hate her; and they were very impatient to begin the task of depreciating both her morale and her physique, when Glenmurray's note arrived.
'It is not Glenmurray's hand,' said Maynard—(indeed, from agitation of mind the writing was not recognizable). 'It must be hers then,' continued he, affecting to kiss the address with rapture.
'It is the hand of a sloven,' observed Mrs Wallington, studying the writing.
'But in dress she is as neat as a Quaker,' retorted the brother, eagerly snatching the letter back, 'and her mind seems as pure as her dress.'
He then broke the seal, and read out what follows:—
'Dear Maynard,
'When you receive this, Adeline and I shall be on our road to France, and you,—start not!—are the occasion of our abrupt departure.'
'So, so, jealous indeed,' said Maynard to himself, and more impressed than ever with the charms of Adeline; for he concluded that Glenmurray had discovered in her an answering prepossession.
'You the occasion, brother!' cried both sisters.
'Have patience.'