Ryder retired to put on her hat, and pry into the letter with greedy eyes.
It ran thus:——
"DEAR FATHER AND FRIEND,—You must come hither no more at present. Ask the bearer why this is, for I am ashamed to put it on paper. Pray for them: for you can, but I cannot. Pray for me, too, bereft for a time of your counsels. I shall come and confess to you in a few days, when we are all cooler; but you shall honour his house no more. Obey me in this one thing, who shall obey you in all things else, and am
"Your indignant and sorrowful daughter,
"CATHERINE GAUNT."
"No more than that?" said Ryder. "Ay, she guessed as I should look."
She whipped on her hat and went out.
Who should she meet, or, I might say, run against, at the hall door, but Father Leonard.
He had come at once in compliance with Mrs. Gaunt's request.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
Mrs. Ryder uttered a little scream of dismay. The priest smiled, and said, sweetly, "Forgive me, mistress, I fear I startled you."