So, much as I hate to ask you, my dear child, I feel that you would rather I did so--and that I ought to be perfectly frank about the situation, particularly since poor Jane feels so deeply her inability to help me.

I am afraid I should need about four hundred dollars, as I have bought nothing to wear for years.

Bessie Spencer has told me of a very reasonable place where I could board, and it is just possible that she will be going herself by the time I am ready.

If for any reason you are unable to let me have the money, just destroy this letter and don't think about it again.

I wouldn't cause you a moment's worry for anything in the world.
With love to George and a dozen kisses for my precious little grandchild, Your devoted mother, FANNY CARR.
Did I remember to tell you that Miss Polly Hatch has gone to New York to look after her nephew's children?
He lost his wife a few months ago, and was left with four little children, the youngest only a year old.
So her punishment had come! As Gabriella dropped the letter into her lap, and looked at little Frances, so good and happy in her crib, she felt that she was punished not only for her reckless marriage, but for all the subterfuge, all the deceit which had followed it.