could have happened that it was overlooked."

She never knew, nor did any one. She tried next day to say something to
her father about it, but she could not make him understand. He said
nothing in reply that had any reference to the letter, or to poor Hugh,
or to his father. It must have been, by some unhappy chance, overlooked
and placed with other papers in the old saddle-bag, where it had lain
all these years.

"And now what shall we do about this?" asked Elizabeth, still holding
the other letter in her hand.

It was a single small leaf folded like a letter and one edge slipped in
as though it was to have been sealed or fastened with a wafer. But it
was open.

"I don't know, the least in the world," said Betsey, much moved. "It
might hold a medicine for the old man over there, but it might also be
poison."

"But since he wrote to my father of confession and restitution, we may
hope that there is a confession in this also."

"Yes, there is something in that. But it was a great while ago now, and
all the old misery would come back again. Not that he has ever
forgotten it. And now I fear there is more trouble before him."

They were greatly at a loss what to do.

"If we could consult some one."

"It would not help much. As it is not sealed you might just look at it.
If there is comfort in it the poor old father ought to have it. There
is no better time to give it."

Elizabeth opened it with trembling fingers.

"I hope it is not wrong."

"It would be too great a risk either to give it or to withhold it
without having known its nature. It was written so long ago, and it
would be terrible to have sorrow added to sorrow now."

A single glance was enough.

"Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight."

Elizabeth read no more. That was enough. She burst into sudden
weeping.

"And he never saw his father again."

"No. And the father never saw the words his son had written," said
Betsey, scarcely less moved.

Daylight was coming in by this time and there was the sound of footsteps
at the door. Then Jacob's voice was heard, and remembering that the
squire had said that the papers were for Elizabeth's eyes alone, Betsey
lifted the bag from the table and carried it into the sick-room. Mr
Maxwell was with Jacob, and other people were waiting to hear how the
night had been passed.

"He has had a good night, and is still sleeping quietly," said
Elizabeth.

"And he seemed quite