Grantly to change his mind. "If he had only popped,"
Anne said to her sister, "it would have been all right. He would
never have gone back from his word." "My dear," said Annabella, "I
wish you would not talk about popping. It is a terrible word." "I
shouldn't, to any one except you," said Anne.

There had come to Silverbridge some few months since, on a visit to
Mrs. Walker, a young lady from Allington, in the neighbouring county,
between whom and Grace Crawley there had grown up from circumstances
a warm friendship. Grace had a cousin in London,--a clerk high up and
well-to-do in a public office, a nephew of her mother's,--and this
cousin was, and for years had been, violently smitten in love for
this young lady. But the young lady's tale had been sad, and though
she acknowledged feelings of the most affectionate friendship for
the cousin, she could not bring herself to acknowledge more. Grace
Crawley had met the young lady at Silverbridge, and words had been
spoken about the cousin; and though the young lady from Allington was
some years older than Grace, there had grown up to be a friendship,
and, as is not uncommon between young ladies, there had been an
agreement that they would correspond. The name of the lady was Miss
Lily Dale, and the name of the well-to-do cousin was Mr. John Eames.

At the present moment Miss Dale was at home with her mother at
Allington, and Grace Crawley in her terrible sorrow wrote to her
friend, pouring out her whole heart. As Grace's letter and Miss
Dale's answer will assist us in our story, I will venture to give
them both.

SILVERBRIDGE, -- December, 186--

DEAREST LILY,

I hardly know how to tell you what has happened, it is so
very terrible. But perhaps you will have heard it already,
as everybody is talking of it here. It has got into the
newspapers, and therefore it cannot be kept secret. Not
that I should keep anything from you; only this is so very
dreadful that I hardly know how to write it. Somebody
says,--a Mr. Soames, I believe it is,--that papa has taken
some money that does not belong to him, and he is to be
brought before the magistrates and tried. Of course papa
has done nothing wrong. I do think he would be the last
man in the world to take a penny that did not belong to
him. You know how poor he is; what a life he has had! But
I think he would almost sooner see mamma starving;--I am
sure he would rather be starv