All the time, I knew there was a reason, but I could
not tell then what it was. He said at last, that he was going to Mr.
Ffolliott. He said, 'I will meet him in the wood and I will take your
note with me.'
"Betty, it was so shameful that I fell down on my knees. 'Oh,
don't--don't--do that,' I said. 'I beg of you, Nigel. He is a gentleman
and a clergyman. I beg and beg of you. If you will not, I will do
anything--anything.' And at that minute I remembered how he had tried
to make me write to father for money. And I cried out--catching at his
coat, and holding him back. 'I will write to father as you asked me. I
will do anything. I can't bear it.'"
"That was the whole meaning of the whole thing," said Betty with eyes
ablaze. "That was the beginning, the middle and the end. What did he
say?"
"He pretended to be made more angry. He said, 'Don't insult me by trying
to bribe me with your vulgar money. Don't insult me.' But he gradually
grew sulky instead of raging, and though he put the note in his pocket,
he did not go to Mr. Ffolliott. And--I wrote to father."
"I remember that," Betty answered. "Did you ever speak to Mr. Ffolliott
again?"
"He guessed--he knew--I saw it in his kind, brown eyes when he passed
me without speaking, in the village.
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