That evening a servant was sent on horseback to Narrabee to procure the insertion of the advertisement in the next issue of the newspaper.
When we parted that night, Naomi looked almost like her brighter and happier self.

Now that the advertisement was on its way to the printing-office, she was more than sanguine: she was certain of the result.
"You don't know how you have comforted me," she said, in her frank, warm-hearted way, when we parted for the night.

"All the newspapers will copy it, and we shall hear of John Jago before the week is out." She turned to go, and came back again to me.

"I will never forgive Silas for writing that confession!" she whispered in my ear.

"If he ever lives under the same roof with Ambrose again, I--well, I believe I wouldn't marry Ambrose if he did! There!" She left me.