"I will, when I find her," said Mr. Sauls. "I do not expect much difficulty. The preacher ought not to be hard to trace; for he certainly is not given to hiding his light under bushels; besides, my news will be to his advantage. We did our best to prevent his reaping inordinate profits, and he can't actually pocket much. There are a good many conditions, but, no doubt, he will live on her, and live in clover. Mr. Russelthorpe was fond of your sister, wasn't he? I do not remember her very clearly myself; I've a bad memory for faces. She had brown eyes and a fresh complexion, hadn't she? No? Ah! I must have been thinking of some one else. Well, if you'll write your letter I will deliver it."
"Meg's eyes are grey," said Laura shortly; and she turned to the writing-table with a sigh.
Poor Meg! who had so often been sinned against, as well as sinning, whom even her quondam admirer had forgotten!
Laura wrote her letter and folded it, then felt that it was unsatisfactory and tore it up, and tried again.
Mr. Sauls looked at his watch, and she took yet another sheet and scribbled a hasty postscript.
Her letter was stiff and rather cold, but in the postscript her heart showed itself; it was a warmer after-thought, such as had made her long ago turn back at the door to offer her silly little sister an unexpected kiss.
She thrust the loose sheet, which was thinner and of a different colour from the rest, into the envelope, and put her missive into Mr. Sauls' hands.
"Grey eyes and pale! I'll try to recollect. Good-bye," he said. "Oh yes, I'll give her your love, when I see her again."
"When I see her again!" His voice betrayed nothing this time; but he repeated the words to himself on his way down the stairs, not quite so calmly.
"When I see her again!" He would see her across a gulf; but, at least, he would know at last whether Meg on the other side of it was in heaven or hell. She was sure to be in one or the other; for there had never been much debatable land for her.