Was I right?

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

I was rising to follow her when Sir William said:

"Wait a little, Miss Lindsay, perhaps she will get over it better alone; if she has a good cry, it will do her good. Poor child, what a pity she ever took a fancy to that worthless fellow! Read his letter, Miss Lindsay, and tell me what you think of it."

I took it up, and read as follows:

"My DEAR UNCLE,
"I have no doubt you think that I am in Port Said, though I did contrive to keep out of your way during your short stay in that delightful place.
"But I am not there now, but have removed to a town many miles distant, which I will not name, lest you should feel it your duty to report me in England.
"I should not have troubled you with a letter, but that I wanted to ask you to lend me a trifling sum to start me in business in the town in which I am now living. I have had the offer of a first-rate partnership, which will enable me soon to become a rich man, but it is necessary that I should advance something in the shape of capital. My partner asks for £100, but I think he will be content with £50, if you are not inclined to forward me the larger sum.
"I am sure, dear uncle, you will not refuse to grant this trifling request, when I tell you that I have a wife depending on me, and that unless I can avail myself of this opening (which is really a splendid one), there is nothing but starvation before us both.
"As I am now a married man, there is no chance of my again being an annoyance to you, so I feel sure you will not deny me this small and last favour.
"Please address to 'Monsieur Junôt, Post Office, Alexandria.' M. Junôt is my wife's brother; she is a French girl, and he will call for the letter, and forward the remittance to me.
"With love to Evelyn and yourself,
"Believe me, dear uncle,
"Your affectionate nephew,
"DONALD TRAFFORD."
"P.S.—You will wonder how I knew you were in Jerusalem. I met a dragoman the other day who was on board the same steamer with you, and he heard that you were to spend a long time in Jerusalem."

"Did you ever hear anything like that?" said Sir William, as I folded up the letter. "Is not that a piece of cool impertinence?"

"He does not seem much ashamed of himself," I could not help saying.

"Ashamed of himself! No, indeed! There is not a word about his running off with that money. He is an idle, selfish, good-for-nothing fellow! And he was always the same; it was always a mystery to me what Evelyn could see to like in him. Poor child, I hope it will not make her ill again!"

"Oh no, I think not," I said; "I think she sees now what his real character is."

"I hope so," he said, anxiously; "perhaps if you went upstairs you could say a word or two to comfort her. You know best—do you think we should leave her alone or not?"

"I think I will just go upstairs and see," I said.