'Honoured madam,
'I make bold to lay my case before you; which as it is very grievous I hope it may move you to pity me. I am the young man that lived with my honoured master Mr. Trevor; in the same house, madam, that you are pleased to live. My name is Philip. I have been guilty of a very great fault; for which my conscience worries me night and day. So that I am sure I shall never forgive myself: though I take my holy saviour to witness it was more a mistake than a thought of committing so wicked a crime. I was in a flurry, so that I did not know what I was about; for to think of having robbed a master that was so kind to me is such a sin and a shame as never was. But I had no notion but that my poor dear master had drowned himself in the river; and so, as he had told me the day before to make up my account and he would pay me the next morning, I thought it was hard that I should lose my wages and the money beside which I had laid out for washing, and newspapers, and tea, and sugar, and other materials of that kind: which, though my wages was only eight pounds eight shillings, made up the whole to twelve pounds five and threepence three farthings. Which was the reason to make me do so base a thing as it would else have been as to break open the box, and take out a ten pound note, and four pair of stockings, and two waistcoats: because I knew very well my master's kindness so that it is ten to one if he had lived to make his will he would have given me them and more. After which I hurried away: being as I was told of a place, with an old master that I was sure would take me again. But I had no more thought that Mr. Trevor was living than the child unborn: which since I discovered I have never been at rest; being out of place, and having nobody now to ask for a character, which is the greatest misfor_tin_ that can behappen a poor servant that never was guilty of such an action as breaking open his master's box, and running away with his money and things, in all my life before, or since. So that I was tempted to list for a soldier; but that I happened, honoured madam, to meet your maid Mary, and she persuaded me to write to Mr. Trevor: which I durst not do, though I know his goodness. So she said your honoured ladyship would be so kind and tender hearted as to lay my case before Mr. Trevor, and my dear and honoured mistress, Miss Mowbray, both of which I would run to the world's end to serve. On which she said she was sure they would take my case into merciful consideration, and grant me their gracious forgiveness.
'Which is the humble petition of your distressed servant to command, honoured madam.
PHILIP FRANKS.'
Poor fellow! Forgive thee? What is thy crime? An inaccuracy. A mistake of judgment. A desire to do thyself right, without intentional wrong to me or any one. Yet for this mistake, differently circumstanced, thou mightest have lost thy life, and have been hanged like a dog!
I too accused thee of robbery, of taking more than thy due, when thou tookest less. Hadst thou offered thy old waistcoats and stockings to a street hawker, he would not have given thee half the surplus that was thy due.
Such were the reflections that broke from me, after perusing his simple but affecting defence.
Mary was called up, and questioned. She knew where he lived: for the poor, little inclined to suspicion, confide in each other. It is the rich only that tempt them to be treacherous.
After consulting with Miss Wilmot, it was determined that she should write to Olivia; enclosing Philip's letter, and requesting her to give him a character. I knew she would take care to see him paid the wages that were his due; and, as I had been the cause of his want of employment since the fright he took at Cranford-bridge, I left money to reimburse him for the loss of his time from that period.
The people I mixed with, and the prejudices of the world, required that I should keep a servant: but, though the man that was with me was by no means so great a favourite as Philip had been, I did not think I had sufficient cause to discharge him for another. There was an additional motive for not wishing Philip to be my servant again; at least not under my present circumstances. Olivia's aunt had imagined we were in league, at Cranford-bridge; and, should she see him once more in my service, that suspicion might either be revived or strengthened.