Miss Jethro pointed to the words, “Mr. Alban Morris is even more devoted to Miss Emily’s service than I am.”
“Is that true?” she asked.
“Quite true.”
“I don’t complain, Mr. Morris, of the hard things said of me in that letter; you are at liberty to suppose, if you like, that I deserve them. Attribute it to pride, or attribute it to reluctance to make needless demands on your time—I shall not attempt to defend myself. I leave you to decide whether the woman who has shown you that letter—having something important to say to you—is a person who is mean enough to say it under false pretenses.”
“Tell me what I can do for you, Miss Jethro: and be assured, beforehand, that I don’t doubt your sincerity.”
“My purpose in coming here,” she answered, “is to induce you to use your influence over Miss Emily Brown—”
“With what object?” Alban asked, interrupting her.
“My object is her own good. Some years since, I happened to become acquainted with a person who has attained some celebrity as a preacher. You have perhaps heard of Mr. Miles Mirabel?”
“I have heard of him.”
“I have been in correspondence with him,” Miss Jethro proceeded. “He tells me he has been introduced to a young lady, who was formerly one of Miss Ladd’s pupils, and who is the daughter of Mr. Wyvil, of Monksmoor Park. He has called on Mr. Wyvil; and he has since received an invitation to stay at Mr. Wyvil’s house. The day fixed for the visit is Monday, the fifth of next month.”