That, he reasoned, was at the root of it all: she wanted to bring them together yet: it would be a fine thing for her to have her bosom-friend mistress of Thornwick! What a cursed thing he should ever have been civil to her! And what a cursed fool he was ever to have cared a straw for such a low-minded creature as that Letty! Thank Heaven, he was cured of that! Cured ?--He had fallen away from love--that was all the cure! Like the knight of the Red Cross, he was punished for abandoning Una, by falling in love with Duessa.

His rage against Letty, just because of her faithfulness, had cast him an easy prey into the arms of the clinging Sepia.
And now what more could Mary do?
Just one thing was left: Mr.Redmain could satisfy Mr.Wardour of the fact he would not hear from her!--so, at least, thought Mary yet.

If Mr.Redmain would take the trouble to speak to him, Mr.Wardour must be convinced! However true might be what Mr.Wardour had said about Mr.Redmain, fact remained fact about Sepia! She sat down and wrote the following letter: "Sir: I hardly know how to address you without seeming to take a liberty; at the same time I can not help hoping you trust me enough to believe that I would not venture such a request as I am about to make, without good reason.

Should you kindly judge me not to presume, and should you be well enough in health, which I fear may not be the case, would you mind coming to see me here in my shop?
I think you must know it--it used to be Turnbull and Marston--the Marston was my father.

You will see my name over the door.