“Sir,—
“I beg to acquaint you with the arrival in London of your niece, Miss Mabel Arden, who is at present residing with a French lady, the widow of Admiral Volney, a fugitive or emigrant from her native country, and who has kindly taken charge of Miss Arden, for a short period. I have also to state that a young gentleman, an officer in the naval service, has placed in my hands a sealed casket, which he received from Miss Arden’s mother, the Duchesse de Coulancourt, with an injunction for it to be opened in his presence and that of Miss Arden’s nearest relative, which I understand you are. Any further particulars I will defer till I have the pleasure of seeing you, which I hope will be as soon as may be convenient.
“I have the honour to be,
“Yours most obediently,
“Joseph Stanmore.”
Sir Godfrey Etherton read this letter twice, and looked very serious, as he muttered half aloud—
“So she is come at last.”
He remained thoughtful some time; then, rising, he proceeded to the drawing-room, where Lady Etherton and two of her youngest daughters were sitting near a blazing fire.
“I have just received intelligence,” commenced the Baronet, “that Miss Arden has arrived in London.”
“Oh, indeed!” returned Lady Etherton, whilst the two girls, both very plain, but very fashionably dressed in the ugly style of the period, looked up from their fancy work.
“I wonder what she is like?” said Miss Jane to her sister Barbara. “Howard said she was such a puny thing, that she would hardly live to reach England.”
“It’s very obvious,” said her mother, “that she has lived, nevertheless. I suppose, Godfrey, you will have to go to London, and bring her here; the weather is very severe for so long a journey.” Even from Southampton to London, sixty years ago, was called a long journey. Oh, steam and rail, what a different world you have made of it! Who can tell, in sixty years more, but that steam and rail will be looked upon as slow coaches are now-a-days?