her
cousin's visits, and that she trusted that she might be able to
co-operate with her cousins in bringing the lawsuit to a close;--that
she certainly would not marry any one without her mother's consent,
but that she did not find herself able at the present to say more
than that. "It won't stop the Solicitor-General, you know," the
Serjeant had remarked, as he read it. "Bother the Solicitor-General!"
Mrs. Bluestone had answered, and had then gone on to show that it
would lead to that which would stop the learned gentleman. The
Serjeant had added a word or two, and great persuasion was used to
induce Lady Anna to use this epistle.

But she would have none of it. "Oh, I couldn't, Mrs. Bluestone;--he
would know that I hadn't written all that."

"You have promised to write, and you are bound to keep your promise,"
said Mrs. Bluestone.

"I believe I am bound to keep all my promises," said Lady Anna,
thinking of those which she had made to Daniel Thwaite.

But at last she sat down and did write a letter for herself,
specially premising that no one should see it. When she had made her
promise, she certainly had not intended to write that which should be
shown to all the world. Mrs. Bluestone had begged that at any rate
the Countess might see it. "If mamma will let me go to her, of course
I will show it her," said Lady Anna. At last it was thought best to
allow her to write her own letter and to send it unseen. After many
struggles and with many tears she wrote her letter as follows;--

Bedford Square, Tuesday.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

I am sorry that I have been so long in doing what I said
I would do. I don't think I ought to have promised, for I
find it very difficult to say anything, and I think that
it is wrong that I should write at all. It is not my fault
that there should be a lawsuit. I do not want to take
anything away from anybody, or to get anything for myself.
I think papa was very wicked when he said that mamma was
not his wife, and of course I wish it may all go as she
wishes. But I don't think anybody ought to ask me to do
what I feel to be wrong.

Mr. Daniel Thwaite is not at all such a person as they
say. He and his father have been mamma's best friends, and
I shall never forget that. Old Mr. Thwaite is dead, and I
am very sorry to hear it. If you had known them as we did
you would understand what I feel. Of course he is not your
friend; but he i