Mr Maxwell looked at the folded paper and then at Jacob.
“It may trouble the old man, but I do not think we have a right to withhold it.”
Elizabeth was about to say that she had looked at the note, but Betsey interrupted her:
“He was sorry for his sin—whatever it was. His written words to Uncle Gershom prove that. And if there is in it any kind of sorrow, or any proof that others were more guilty than he, it might comfort the old man.”
“Will you take it to him by and by, Mr Maxwell?” said Elizabeth.
“If I am the best person to take it. But he has never spoken to me of his son.”
“He has never spoken a word to any one but the mother. And I feel that there is comfort to him in this little letter, and you will be glad to carry him comfort, I know.”
“Thank you. Well, I will take it at once. Some one will be up at this early hour with the grandmother. I will go now.”
Elizabeth put the folded paper in her father’s letter with the money and gave it to him.
“I will go too,” said Jacob, rising.