Miss Bentley. Well! I wrote to my brother, to enquire about the squirrel, and here is his answer: read it.
Miss Huntley. (having read it.) My dear Louisa I am shocked. I did not think William Eaton could have been guilty of an action so mean. You know I told you, when I was here last, he opened the cage and said the squirrel had jumped out of the window. Now he went to school the next day, therefore he must have taken it. I always thought he loved a little mischief, but had not an idea he could do such a thing as this.
Miss Bentley. And very likely all this was for the gain of a couple of shillings, or some such trifle. But, however, the squirrel is your's, Miss Huntley, so I beg you will accept of it.
Miss Huntley. I think, Miss Bentley, I had better not take it, as it will cause questions which may discover young
Eaton's guilt, and I should not wish to take away his character. I think the best way will be to write him a letter; and tell him how sorry I am at finding how I lost my squirrel, but that, as I know who has it, I shall think no more of it.
Miss Bentley. My dear Miss Huntley, you will act nobly; and much kinder, I am sure, than he deserves. Suppose you write it now, here is every thing necessary.
Miss Huntley then wrote the letter, and when she had finished, she read it aloud.
"Sir,
"When you favoured us with your company, the night before you went to school, had any body told me you had the least thought of doing what I have lately found you did, I should have thought it an impossibility. Believe me, the loss of the squirrel does not grieve me half so much as the manner in which I have lately heard I lost it. Miss
Bentley, sister to one of your schoolfellows, has it, and would freely give it me; and as that is all I wished to know, (as I was afraid it might meet a violent death,) I shall very willingly let it remain with her; for if I should take it, it might breed questions which would not be quite agreeable. And now let me conclude this letter with assuring you, that, as I trust you have sense enough to be sorry for what you have done, I shall think no more of it, than if it never had happened.