“The doctor sent his best regards to you, sir, and the same to Miss Maltby, and so did his missus. And as I went out at the door, I just said to the green boy, ‘William, you keep a civil tongue in your head to everybody, my lad, and don’t be too proud of them buttons.’
“And now, dear friends, with your leave, I’ll open the bag again, and see what it’s got to tell us.” Having unlocked the padlock with an ordinary key, Thomas Bradly drew forth a quantity of paper, and then a small packet wrapped up in silver paper which he handed to his sister. Poor Jane’s hands trembled as she unfolded the covering, and she had some difficulty in maintaining her self-command as she drew forth the bracelet, the innocent occasion of so much trial and sorrow. It was evidently a costly article, and, though a little tarnished, looked very beautiful. As Jane held it up for inspection, tears of mingled sadness and thankfulness filled her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, “how little did I think, when I took the fellow to this bracelet into my hand at Lady Morville’s, and held it up to look at it, as I am doing now, that such a flood of sorrow would have come from such a simple act of mine! Ah, but I can see already how wonderfully the Lord has been bringing good to others out of what seemed so long to be full of nothing but evil for me.”
“You recognise the bracelet then, Jane,” asked the vicar, “as the match to the one which was found in your hand?”
“O yes, sir: the image of that bracelet has been burnt into my memory; I could never forget it; it has often haunted me in my dreams.”
While these words were being spoken, Thomas had emptied out the remaining contents of the bag on to the table, and thoroughly examined them. All that he found was the unopened envelope and a quantity of waste paper.
“This belongs to you, dear Jane,” said Bradly, giving her the letter.
She shook her head. “I cannot, Thomas,” she said. “Oh, do you open it, and read it out,” she added imploringly.
“Well, I don’t know,” replied her brother; “I feel just now more like a cry-baby than a grown man. Shall we ask our kind friend the vicar to open it and read it out for us?”
“O yes, yes,” cried Jane, “if he will be so good.”