"Ever yours only,
"George Marlborough."
Was there any mistake in the letter? Mary Carr had often heard of such. Could it have been written to Rose? Alas, yes! it was all too plain. The writing was George Marlborough's; the address, "Miss Rose Darling, En Ville," was his; and the seal, "G.M.," was his also. Mary rose, and stood before Eleanor, shielding her from observation, as she beckoned to Anna Marlborough: while Emma Mowbray looked defiant, and asked whether they would believe her next time.
The child was dancing about the courtyard. She was young, and the school made her a sort of plaything: she came dancing up to Miss Carr.
"Now, Anna, I have something to ask you; and if you equivocate by so much as a word, I will acquaint Madame de Nino that there's a letter-carrier in the school; you would be expelled that same hour. Did you bring a note here from your brother this morning?"
"Yes, I did," stammered Anna. "Don't tell of me, please."
"I'll not tell, if you speak the truth. To whom did you bring it?"
"To Miss Darling."
"Did he send it to her? What did he say when he gave it to you?"
"He told me to give it into her own hands when nobody was by, and to give his love with it," answered Anna. "Oh, pray don't tell of me, Miss Carr! It's nothing much more than usual; he often sends his love by me to Miss Darling."