"It is from Kathleen M'Shane, sir," replied I, and requesting leave, I broke the seal. It contained another. I read Kathleen's, and then hastily opened the other. It was from Nattée, or Lady H. de Clare, and ran as follows:—
"Japhet Newland,—Fleta is the daughter of Sir William de Clare.
Dearly has my husband paid for his act of folly and wickedness, and to which you must know I never was a party.
Yours,
Nattée."
The letter from Kathleen added more strange information. Lady de Clare, after the funeral of her husband, had sent for the steward, made every necessary arrangement, discharged the servants, and then had herself disappeared, no one knew whither; but it was reported that somebody very much resembling her had been seen travelling south in company with a gang of gipsies. I handed both letters over to Lady de Clare and Mr Masterton.
"Poor Lady de Clare!" observed the mother.
"Nattée will never leave her tribe," observed Cecilia quietly.
"You are right, my dear," replied I. "She will be happier with her tribe where she commands as a queen, than ever she was at the castle."
Mr Masterton then entered into a detail with Lady de Clare as to what steps ought immediately to be taken, as the heirs-at-law would otherwise give some trouble; and having obtained her acquiescence, it was time to withdraw. "Mr Newland, I trust you will consider us as your warmest friends. I am so much in your debt, that I never can repay you; but I am also in your debt in a pecuniary way—that, at least, you must permit me to refund."