"Mr. Bunyard?" I asked, as politely as I could, while my heart leaped with emotion.
"The same," replied he.
I handed him the letter, which he opened at once. He took from it a bill of exchange, which seemed to light up his face with satisfaction.
"I am very happy to hear from my friend Mr. Thornton. I hope he is quite well. He does not mention the bearer of this letter," continued the agent, bestowing an inquiring look upon me.
"He was not aware, when he wrote the letter, that I should be the bearer of it," I replied, evasively. "My name is Thornton."
"I am happy to meet you, Mr. Thornton," he added.
"How is Mrs. Thornton now?" I inquired, boldly, though my heart almost sank within me, when I put the question.
He looked at me—appeared to hesitate; but a glance at the letter and the bill of exchange I had brought apparently reassured him. Doubtless he concluded, as I supposed he would, that it was all right, since I came directly from his employer, and was the bearer of a payment to him.
"Mrs. Thornton is quite as well as usual," he replied.
"I wish to see her," I continued, squarely.