"Seal, indeed! Inviolate! How many seals have I got to make every day of my life ?" I heard a great thump from the corner of the shop where the business of the mails was conducted; and she told me afterward that she was so put out, that broken that seal should be--one way or another.

Accordingly she smashed it with the office stamp, which was rather like a woman's act, methought; and then, having broken it, she never looked inside--which, perhaps, was even more so.
When she recovered her leisure and serenity, and came in, to forgive me and be forgiven, we resolved to dismiss the moral aspect of the question, as we never should agree about it, although Mrs.Busk was not so certain as she had been, when she found that the initials were the initials of a lord.

And then I asked her how she came to fix upon that letter among so many others, and to feel so sure that it came from my treacherous enemy.
"In the first place, I know every letter from Nepheton," she answered, very sensibly.

"There are only fourteen people that write letters in the place, and twelve of those fourteen buy their paper in my shop--there is no shop at all at Nepheton.

In the next place, none of them could write a hand like that, except the parson and the doctor, who are far above disguise.