Now he was up in the garret bedroom, scribbling as fast as pen could fly over paper.

He had been guilty of a mistake--so ran the epistle; having decided to leave Whitelaw, he ought never to have requested a continuance of the pension.

He begged Lady Whitelaw would forgive this thoughtless impropriety; she had made him understand the full extent of his error.

Of course he could not accept anything more from her.

As for the past, it would be idle for him to attempt an expression of his indebtedness.