ad approved Greenacre's scheme for
finally getting rid of Mr. Clover. But Polly's letter began with an
announcement which occasioned him the greatest surprise he had known
since the identification of Clover with Lord Polperro. So completely
did it engross and confuse his mind that not until some quarter of an
hour elapsed could he think about the passage quoted above. "I write to
inform you," began Miss Sparkes, without any introductory phrase, "that
I am going to be married to a gentleman who has a high place at
Swettenham's, the big tea merchants, and his name is Mr. Parish. He has
won the missing word, which is five hundred and fifty pounds, and
which, every penny of it, he will spend on furniture at one of the best
places. You shall have one of our cards when we send them out, though I
cannot say you have behaved accordingly. The reason I do not invite you
to the wedding is because Mr. Parish's friends are very particular."

After reading these remarkable lines again and again Mr. Gammon was
much disposed to shout; but something restrained him. He felt, perhaps,
that shouting would be inadequate or even inappropriate. When his first
emotions subsided he went quietly forth from the house (it was evening)
and took a walk about the adjacent streets, stopping at a stationer's
to purchase note-paper. Returned to his room he gently whistled an
old-fashioned melody; his face passed from grave thoughtfulness to a
merry smile. Before going to bed he meant to write a letter, but there
was no hurry; two hours had to pass before the midnight collection.

The letter was brief, lucid, sensible. He explained to Mrs. Clover that
the painfulness and difficulty of her situation since Lord Polperro's
death had impelled him to a strange, but harmless and justifiable,
expedient for putting her affairs in order. He made known the nature of
the artifice, which, "for several reasons," he had tried in the first
instance upon Polly Sparkes, with complete success. If Mrs. Clover took
his advice she would straightway go into moderate mourning and let it
be known that her husband was dead. Reserve as to details would seem
strange to no one; ordinary acquaintances might be told that Mr. Clover
had died abroad, friends and relatives that he had died at sea. He
hoped she would not be offended by what he had done, as it relieved her
from a wretched burden of secrecy, and greatly improved the position of
her daughter, Miss Minnie. She need not reply