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Updated: June 25, 2025
The landlady's boy had been sent to fetch a cab, and he had heard Miss Westerfield tell the driver to go to Lincoln's Inn Fields. The address at once reminded Randal of Mr. Sarrazin. On the chance of making a discovery, he went to the lawyer's office.
I want to know if you have heard anything lately of James Bellbridge?" The landlord was a popular person in his own circle not accustomed to restrain himself when he saw his way to a joke. "Here's constancy!" he said. "She's sweet on James, after having jilted him twelve years ago!" Mrs. Westerfield replied with dignity. "I am accustomed to be treated respectfully," she replied.
I have gone away again I have walked, I don't know where, I don't know how far. Shame and fear seemed to be insensible to fatigue. This is my third attempt. If I was a little nearer to you, I think you would see what the effort has cost me. I have not much to say. May I ask you to hear me?" "You have taken me by surprise, Miss Westerfield. You have no right to do that; I refuse to hear you."
When she gets older she will replace my regular governess, and I shall save the salary." With this proposal waiting for a reply, Mrs. Westerfield had only to inform her sister that it was accepted. "Come here," she wrote, "on Friday next, at any time before two o'clock, and Syd shall be ready for you.
He told Westerfield he was very fond of her, and he hated the idea of getting married. 'If your wife's first child turns out to be a son, he said, 'there is an heir to the title and estates, and I may go on as I am now. We were married a month afterward and when my first child was born it was a girl. I leave you to judge what the disappointment was!
Had the old wretch deceived her, after all? "Look in the letter-box," she called out. The servant obeyed, and found a letter. Mrs. Westerfield tore it open, standing on the stairs. It contained half a sheet of common note-paper. The interpretation of the cipher was written on it in these words: "Remember Number 12, Purbeck Road, St. John's Wood. Go to the summer-house in the back garden.
There was but one sentence left to read: "If your maternal anxiety suggests any misgiving, let me add that a woman's loving care will watch over our little girl while she is under my roof. You will remember how fond Miss Westerfield was of Kitty, and you will believe me when I tell you that she is as truly devoted to the child as ever." "I tried to prevent you from reading it," said Mrs. Presty.
He suddenly showed an interest in what she was saying: the brute became cheery and confidential. "So he made you a bad husband, did he? Up with his fist and knocked you down, I daresay, if the truth was known?" "You're all in the wrong, dear. He would have been a good husband if I had cared about him. I never cared about anybody but you. It wasn't Westerfield who tempted me to say Yes."
A compassionate lady near her offered to take care of the children while she was absent. Mrs. Westerfield answered quietly and coldly: "Thank you their father wishes to see them." The prisoner was dying; nobody could look at him and doubt it. His eyes opened wearily, when his wife and children approached the bed on which he lay helpless the wreck of a grandly-made man.
"I promise." She went back to the writing-table. "My heart is easier," she said, simply. "I can be merciful to her now." After writing a few lines, she rose and handed the paper to him. He looked up from it in surprise. "Addressed to Mrs. MacEdwin!" he said. "Addressed," she answered, "to the only person I know who feels a true interest in Miss Westerfield. Have you not heard of it?"
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