"What do they say?"
"Of course I don't know; only I have heard—"
"That he is a scoundrel!"
"Scoundrel is very strong," said the old lady, shocked.
"A villain, a liar, a thief, and all the rest of it. That's what you have heard. And I'll tell you who has been your informant. Either first or second hand, it has come to you from Mr. Augustus Scarborough. Now we'll begin again. 'Dear Mr. Annesley—'" The old lady paused a moment, and then, setting herself firmly to the task, commenced and finished her letter, as follows:
"Dear Mr. Annesley,—You spent a few days here on one occasion, and I want to renew the pleasure which your visit gave me. Will you extend your kindness so far as to come to Tretton for any time you may please to name beyond two or three days? I am sorry to say that your friend Augustus Scarborough cannot be here to meet you. My other son, Mountjoy, may be here. If you wish to escape him, I will endeavor so to fix the time when I shall have heard from you. But I think there need be no ill blood there. Neither of you did anything of which you are, probably, ashamed; though as an old man I am bound to express my disapproval."
("Surely he must be ashamed," said Miss Scarborough.
"Never you mind. Believe me, you know nothing about it." Then he went on with his letter.)
"But it is not merely for the pleasure of your society that I ask you. I have a word to say to you which may be important. Yours faithfully,
"JOHN SCARBOROUGH."