"Jennie! Jennie! I can't give him another chance to throw back my love, and I can't meet him kindly unless I do!"
Next morning's mail brought a letter from Martin, written after Carden's departure, and addressed to the latter, and after perusing it himself he read it to the others after breakfast. It ran as follows:
"My dear Fred: I have changed my mind about going to New York and have cabled people there to see what can be got out of the wreck. I am a young man yet, Africa is looming up as a place to make something quickly, and there is a ship sailing for the Cape to-morrow night, or early next morning. I met the captain after you left, and have made arrangements for my passage. I will, of course, have to get a good many things, and this will take all the time I have to spare, so I cannot go to Hanley Hall as agreed. You must, therefore, say good-bye for me. It will, also, take nearly all I possess at present. I must, also, therefore, ask you to do something for me, and I believe you will get it back soon from the "wreck." Make Julia a wedding present of five hundred pounds for her goodness to me. I know you will do it gladly enough, and the bank people surely ought to pay £500 on £200,000."
Julia, who since her arrival at Hanley Hall, had been made one of the family, and was sitting facing the reader, here entered a vehement protest:
"No, no, Mr. Carden, never! To think of him, with all his trouble, thinking of me!
"That's worth five hundred more—just to hear it!" exclaimed Carden; "and now let me get on, for we have no time to spare."
"I am sorry, Fred, I cannot be at your wedding," he continued; "but you know, that even if circumstances permitted, it would not be pleasant for your cousin. I can't understand it—you know what I mean—but as it is with me now, it is fortunate it is so. Not that I would be afraid with her with me, but it is fortunate for her at any rate.
"You can read part of this, if you like,—just enough to account for my failure to appear, and come and see me before we get away.
"Say good-bye to every one for me, for I am neither good as a writer or talker, and I should not like either your aunt or uncle, Miss Fleming, Julia, or O'Brien, or the doctor too—or anyone else, to think I parted without regret at not seeing them—yet, Fred, I don't believe I could stand it if I did.