For some time after his departure, Guy wrote constantly. He was paid regularly, and, by his own request, weekly; and by the most rigid economy, he succeeded in saving money, every shilling of which was sent home to be put in the "beloved bag." At about this time, however, he began to write less often, though always affectionately; yet Clarice somehow felt sure that he was neither so happy nor so hopeful as he had been. Happy, perhaps, is not the right word, for Guy had made no secret of his sense of loneliness, and of longing for the dear home faces; but his letters had indicated a mind at rest, and hope for the future. He had often praised his landlady, Mrs. Browne, yet now he spoke of leaving her house. Matters were in this state, when one morning Mr. Egerton received a letter from Mrs. Browne herself, which I shall copy, as it is rather a curiosity. The writer was a poor struggling widow, with a large family, and so her kind care for her young lodger is the more to be admired.
"HONOURED SIR,
"Which it is but seldom I take pen in hand except to make out my small account or write to my Willy that's at sea. So honoured Sir excuse errors and so forth for I write because I do love that ansom boy and can't abare to see him led away which led away he will be. It is not because he must leave me Honoured Sir for one as never knew the flaviour of her lodgers tea can always fill her house respectable, though not to equall Mr. Egerton and that I will say.
"It is not his own doings but all along of a young gent that he has got to know which for all his fine clothes and uppish ways is not a real gent at all as Mr. Guy most truly is in all his ways. But this Mr. Price has begun to come here and take Mr. Guy out in the evenings and glad I was for the poor young man was fair pined for want of a little fun. But now I see through him and it was for his own bad ends, for sure I am he has borrowed money which pay he never will or my name's not Martha Brown Italian Warehouse.
"Mr. Guy scarce eats nor drinks but spares every penny, and yet can't pay his rent not that I am hurting for wait I can and will. He sighs and looks so sad and last night I came on him sudden and he was crying, but turned away his face being young and shamefaced. There is something wrong Honoured Sir and excuse the liberty I have atook but could I see the fine young gent go to ruin for want of a timely word and a bit of help, and sure I am he wants both this moment and I am Honoured Sir your servant to Command.
"MARTHA BROWNE.
"Don't let him know as I wrote if you please."
Mr. Egerton went to Clarice, and gave her the letter.
"Who is it from, papa?"
"The person with whom Guy lodges."
"Oh—is he ill?" cried Clarice, turning very white.
"No. Read it, and then you will know as much as I do."
Clarice read, and looked very anxious.
"What can be the matter?" she said.
"Surely it is plain enough! This young Price has led him into extravagance—or, more likely, the boy has become weary of his miserable existence, and is reckless."