to justice, and Aunt Juliet tried to say nasty things about aiding and
abetting (whatever they mean). But I said that wouldn't have happened
because we didn't particularly care for Lady Isabel and simply loathed
Barnabas, if it hadn't been for the dastardly way Lord Torrington
sprained Frank's ankle, so that they had no one to blame but themselves.
Lord Torrington, who isn't really a bad sort at times, quite saw this
and said he wouldn't have sprained Frank's ankle if he hadn't been upset
at the time on account of Lady Isabel's having eluded his vigilance and
escaped. This just shows how careful we ought to be about our lightest
and most innocent actions. No one would expect any dire results to come
of simply spraining a young man's ankle on a steamer; but they did;
which is the way many disasters occur and often we don't find out why
even afterwards, though in this case Lord Torrington did, thanks to me.

"Joseph Antony Kinsella and Peter Walsh and Timothy Sweeny and Patsy
the smith came up one day on a deputation with a donkey load of turf
for father and Lord Torrington, which seemed curious, but wasn't, really
because there were bottles and bottles of illicit whisky under the
turf. Lord Torrington made a speech to them and said that all would be
forgiven and forgotten and that he would leave the whisky in his will to
his grandson, who might drink it perhaps; which shows, we think, that
he is taking Barnabas to his heart, or else he would hardly be saving up
the whisky in the way he said he would. So, as Shakespeare says, 'All's
well that ends well.'

"Your affect, friend,

"Priscilla Lentaigne."

"P. S.--I couldn't write while they were here on account of the
thunderous condition of the atmosphere and not knowing exactly how
things would turn out, which is the cause of your not getting this
letter sooner. Since they left, Barnabas and all, Aunt Juliet has
dropped being a suffragette in disgust (you can't wonder after the
way Lady Isabel turned out to have deceived her) and has taken up
appendicitis warmly. She says it's far more important really than uric
acid or fresh air, and is thinking of going up to Dublin next week for
an operation. Father says it was bound to be either that or spiritualism
because they are the only two things left which she hadn't tried. It's
rather unlucky, I think, for Aunt Juliet, being so very intellectual.
I'm glad I'm not."

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's Priscill