Mrs. Brent told her husband that she appeared to
have no sense of dignity or proper appreciation of her position.
The wife of the farmer, John Wilson, carried away the cheque, quite
stunned. She was breathless with amazement and turned rather faint with
excitement, bewilderment and her sense of relief. She had to sit down
in the vicarage kitchen for a few minutes and drink a glass of the thin
vicarage beer.
Rosalie promised that she would discuss the matter and ask advice
when she returned to the Court. Just as she left the house Mrs. Brent
suddenly remembered something she had forgotten.
"The Wilson trouble completely drove it out of my mind," she said. "It
was a stupid mistake of the postboy's. He left a letter of yours among
mine when he came this morning. It was most careless. I shall speak
to his father about it. It might have been important that you should
receive it early."
When she saw the letter Rosalie uttered an exclamation. It was addressed
in her father's handwriting.
"Oh!" she cried. "It's from father! And the postmark is Havre. What does
it mean?"
She was so excited that she almost forgot to express her thanks.
Her heart leaped up in her throat. Could they have come over from
America--could they? Why was it written from Havre? Could they be near
her?
She walked along the road choked with ecstatic, laughing sobs.
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