Yours faithfully,
HUGH ST. CLAIR.”
“The Vicarage,
Caistorholm.
“DEAR EDWARD,—
Papa insists that I endorse his words. What else can I do? I am so sorry, but there seems no other way. And, after all, I’m sure I should not have made you the wife you ought to have. With best wishes,
ELEANOR ST. CLAIR.”
“Humph!” said the Rev. Denis Caird.
“There’s nothing lacking on the score of lucidity anyway. Anything else?”
“Merely this,” said Edward, bitterly, as he handed a newspaper to his visitor.