"Yes—unfortunately for my peace of mind since I was asked to read it. But you——"
"I," said Jermyn, "glanced at it, supposing it to be memoranda about the property you were discussing; I had no idea that it could be a private letter. You will understand why I would like to know something further about it, principally to save one woman, possibly two women, from great mortification should the letter itself fall into the wrong hands."
"Possibly two women?" repeated the Admiral. "Do you mean to say that you don't know who the writer was?"
"I've not the slightest idea."
The Admiral knocked the ashes from his cigar, and took several puffs, regarding Jermyn quizzically in the meantime, before he replied:
"Dear boy, you've a powerful friend at court, if your interests are what they might be. The writer of the letter, who I assure you is not a member of my own family, was writing to some one to whom she has an entire right to open her mind freely. If that little scamp Trixy hadn't—"
"Aha! Mrs. Highwood was the writer, eh?"
Jermyn seemed greatly relieved by his discovery, but the Admiral said indignantly:
"Jermyn, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for entrapping an old friend in that way— you really ought. Beside, you ought to be grateful that so good a woman is taking so great interest in you. As to the lady whom she named, any man alive ought to be glad of an opportunity to make love to her, and marry her, but if you don't think so——"
"I fully agree with you, Admiral, but if the lady herself chances to hear of it—if our mining acquaintance chances to be one of the fellows who sees a joke in everything, and doesn't care to whom he tells it, and if he has the letter, and shows it to mutual acquaintances—well, you know how a story gains by being passed from man to man."