“Which I have proved to be false. She told me that my father was Sir Richard’s butler; that I have also discovered to be false, for one day the old housekeeper, who called upon me at school, came here, and was closeted with Lady R— for half-an-hour. When she went away, I called a hackney-coach for her, and getting behind it, went home with her to her lodgings. When I found out where she lived, I hastened back immediately that I might not be missed, intending to have made a call upon her. The next day Lady R— gave me a letter to put in the twopenny-post; it was directed to a Mrs Green, to the very house where the hackney-coach had stopped, so I knew it was for the old housekeeper. Instead of putting the letter in the post, I kept it till the evening, and then took it myself.
“‘Mrs Green,’ said I, for I found her at home with another old woman, sitting over their tea, ‘I have brought you a letter from Lady R—.’ This is about a year ago, Miss Valerie.
“‘Mercy on me,’ said she, ‘how strange that Lady R— should send you here.’
“‘Not strange that she should send a letter by a servant,’ said I, ‘only strange that I should be a servant.’
“I said this, Miss Valerie, as a random throw, just to see what answer she would make.
“‘Why, who has been telling you anything?’ said she, looking at me through her spectacles.
“‘Ah,’ replied I, ‘that’s what I must keep to myself, for I’m under a promise of secrecy.’
“‘Mercy on me, it couldn’t be—no, that’s impossible,’ muttered the old woman, as she opened the letter and took out a bank-note, which she crumpled up in her hand. She then commenced reading the letter; I walked a little way from her, and stood between her and the window. Every now and then she held the letter up to the candle, and when the light was strong upon it, I could read a line from where I stood, for I have been used to her ladyship’s writing, as you know. One line I read was, ‘remains still at Culverwood Hall;’ another was, ‘the only person now left in Essex.’ I also saw the words ‘secrecy’ and ‘ignorant’ at the bottom of the page. The old woman finished the letter at last, but it took her a good while to get through it.
“‘Well,’ says she, ‘have you anything more to say?’
“‘No,’ says I; ‘you are well paid for your secrecy, Mrs Green.’