“Certainly, if you wish,” he replied, looking a trifle surprised at her request.
He motioned her again to a seat, then opened the letters and read them both through.
“I understand,” he said, when he had finished them, “from your father’s letter that, believing he was soon to die, he wished to provide a home for you. He states that he has no friends or relatives in England with whom he would be willing to trust you; that he has next to nothing to leave you, and begs my wife, as the nearest of kin, to assume the care of you and your education until you are able to do something for yourself, trusting to Providence to reward her for her kindness to the orphan. He mentions that he feels assured she will do this, since she once entertained such tender feelings for his wife for the signal service which she once rendered her.”
“Do you know what that service was?” Star asked, in a low tone.
“No; I asked Ellen when I read the letter which she received, but she seemed to have forgotten to what he referred. Perhaps you know, though?” Mr. Richards concluded, inquiringly.
Star colored vividly.
“Yes, sir,” she returned, with compressed lips.
“Well, what was it? I should like to know.”
“My mother was a Miss Chudleigh before her marriage, as you doubtless know, and she lived near Halowell Park, in Devonshire, where Mrs. Richards was once visiting, and it was during that visit that she saved her from drowning.”
“Whew! Your mother saved my wife from drowning, eh?” cried Mr. Richards, in astonishment, and coloring as he remembered his wife’s indifference upon the topic when he had questioned her about it.