To her surprise and relief, the fond love letter brought a prompt reply.
Senator Bonair had been too ill to write to any one, and not wishing to alarm his daughters or his betrothed, had not suffered any one else to write to them of his illness.
Therefore, although he had had her letters forwarded from London down to the village, he had not troubled himself to reply; and now that he was better he had a weakness of the eyes so that the doctor forbade him to use the pen.
In this dilemma, he had recourse, of all people in the world, to his son, to act as his amanuensis.
The father and son were on excellent terms now, and the young couple had taken up their quarters at the inn at his urgent request, to help while away the dull hours until he was well enough to go.
“Here, Berry, you write the letter for father to his sweetheart!” cried Charley coaxingly.
But Berry, always so gentle, suddenly turned stubborn and flatly declined:
“I will have nothing to do now, or ever, with Miss Montague!” she said, shaking her dark, curly head.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE UNWELCOME LETTER.
Charley took up the pen to write to his future stepmother, and looked at his father.