“ ’Tain’t likely she could write herself in that condition,” began Caleb, but Martha’s face again hushed him down.
“There’s neither seal nor sticking envelope,” pursued the expert. “Nothing but a wafer. Comes from a poor man.”
“Her new husband,” said Caleb, and set Martha grimacing again.
“Oi’ll be soon gooin’ outside,” he protested, misunderstanding.
“What you want,” summed up Bundock judicially, “is a mixture of discretion with matrimony, seasoned with a sprinkle of learning.”
“He talks like the Book!” said Caleb admiringly.
“But where is this mixture?” inquired Martha eagerly.
“She don’t exist,” said Bundock. “But Miss Gentry is the nearest lady that can read, and Fate is just sending me with a letter and a packet to her.”
The couple looked doubtful.
“She ain’t matrimony,” said Caleb.