"I would give one hand that you had never seen your cousin."
"And I will give one hand because I have," said Mary, stretching out her right arm. "Nay, I will give both; I will give all, because, having seen him, he is what he is to me. But, Janet, when you return to him these things say a gentle word from me. I have cost him money, I fear."
"He will think but little of that. He would have given you willingly the last acre of his land, had you wanted it."
"But I did not want it. That was the thing. And all these have been altered, as they would not have been altered, but for me. I do repent that I have brought all this trouble upon him. I cannot do more now than ask you to say so when you restore to him his property."
"He will probably pitch them into the cart-ruts. Indeed, I will not give them to him. I will simply tell him that they are in my hands, and Frank shall have them locked up at the banker's. Well;—I suppose I had better go down and write him a line."
"And I will name Saturday to my aunt," said Mary.
Mrs. Fenwick immediately went to her desk, and wrote to her friend.
Dear Harry,
I am sure it is of no use. Knowing how persistent is your constancy, I would not say so were I not quite, quite certain. She goes to Loring on Saturday. Will it not be better that you should come to us for awhile after she has left us. You will be less desolate with Frank than you would be alone.
Ever yours,
Janet Fenwick.
She has left your jewels with me. I merely tell you this for your information;—not to trouble you with the things now.
And then she added a second postscript.
She regrets deeply what you have suffered on her account, and bids me beg you to forgive her.