"I begin to hope it was not your son. He was
a tall young man, almost as tall as yourself. He was very handsome, with
brown hair and brown eyes, and seemed incapable of deceit."
"Have you any letters of his?" asked the Colonel.
"I had a great many, sir," said she, "but I have not kept them all."
"Have you one?" said the Colonel, sternly.
"Oh yes, sir," said Lucy, "I think I must have nearer twenty; but what
good will they be?" said she, affecting simplicity.
"Why, my dear madam," said Monckton, "Colonel Clifford is quite right;
the handwriting may not tell _you_ anything, but surely his own father
knows it. I think he is offering you a very fair test. I must tell you
plainly that if you don't produce the letters you say you possess, I
shall regret having put myself forward in this matter at all."
"Gently, sir," said the Colonel; "she has not refused to produce them."
Lucy put her hand in her pocket and drew out a packet of letters, but she
hesitated, and looked timidly at Monckton, after his late severity.
Pages:
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478