Lady Mary thought a little.
"Perhaps it is better so," she said after a pause.
"Why do you say that?"
"Peter has surely grown away from these people. He would not have found his dream."
A shutting door warned Lady Mary that her brother had returned. She rose from the settee, and went to the writing table. When she had finished her few lines, she gave them to Mrs. Paragon, who, asking Lady Mary with a look, was invited to read them:
"Peter,—I beg you not to distress yourself. I am determined to forget what happened this evening, and I rely on you not to brood on things which are finished. You know now that I am more than ever right to become the wife of Lord Wenderby. I want you to meet me without awkwardness or self-reproach. There is no need for one or the other. Nothing has changed.
"I am sending this by your dear mother.
"Mary."
Mrs. Paragon handed back the sheet.
"You are kind," she said.
"I have nothing to resent."
She sealed the letter, and addressed it. "When Peter has got over his remorse, you will bring him back," she suggested.