"I don't think he would have done that," said Patience.
"But he was going to do it. He had half-engaged himself to some tailor's daughter. Indeed, up to the moment of your telling me this I thought he would marry her." Poor Clary! So Patience said to herself as she heard this. "He had got himself into such a mess that the best thing he could do was to sell his interest to his uncle. The estate will go to a better fellow, though out of the proper line."
Then Patience told her father that she had brought a letter for him which had been given to her that morning by Stemm, who had met her at the station.
"I think," she said, "that it comes from some of the Newton family because of the crest and the Basingstoke postmark." Then the letter was brought;—and as it concerns much the thread of our story, it shall be given to the reader;—
Newton Priory, October 17, 186—.
My Dear Sir Thomas Underwood,—
I write to you with the sanction, or rather at the instigation, of my father to ask your permission to become a suitor to your niece, Miss Bonner. You will probably have heard, or at least will hear, that my father has made arrangements with his nephew Ralph, by which the reversion of the Newton property will belong to my father. It is his intention to leave the estate to me, and he permits me to tell you that he will consent to any such settlement in the case of my marriage, as would have been usual, had I been his legitimate heir. I think it best to be frank about this, as I should not have ventured to propose such a marriage either to you or to Miss Bonner, had not my father's solicitude succeeded in placing me in circumstances which may, perhaps, be regarded as in part compensating the great misfortune of my birth.
It may probably be right that I should add that I have said no word on this subject to Miss Bonner. I have hitherto felt myself constrained by the circumstances to which I have alluded from acting as other men may act. Should you be unwilling to concede that the advantages of fortune which have now fallen in my way justify me in proposing to myself such a marriage, I hope that you will at least excuse my application to yourself.
Very faithfully yours,
Ralph Newton.
Sir Thomas read the letter twice before he spoke a word to his daughter. Then, after pausing with it for a moment in his hand, he threw it to her across the bed. "Miss Mary is in luck," he said;—"in very great luck. It is a magnificent property, and as far as I can see, one of the finest young fellows I ever met. You understand about his birth?"
"Yes," said Patience, almost in a whisper.
"It might be a hindrance to him in some circumstances; but not here. It is nothing here. Did you know of this?"
"No, indeed."
"Nor Mary?"