Mrs. Presty read:

"I know nothing whatever of my unfortunate brother. If you think
this is a too-indulgent way of alluding to a man who has so
shamefully wronged you, let my conviction that he is already
beginning to suffer the penalty of his crime plead my excuse.
Herbert's nature is, in some respects, better known to me than it
is to you. I am persuaded that your hold on his respect and his
devotion is shaken--not lost. He has been misled by one of those
passing fancies, disastrous and even criminal in their results,
to which men are liable when they are led by no better influence
than the influence of their senses. It is not, and never will be,
in the nature of women to understand this. I fear I may offend
you in what I am now writing; but I must speak what I believe to
be the truth, at any sacrifice. Bitter repentance (if he is not
already feeling it) is in store for Herbert, when he finds
himself tied to a person who cannot bear comparison with you. I
say this, pitying the poor girl most sincerely, when I think of
her youth and her wretched past life. How it will end I cannot
presume to say. I can only acknowledge that I do not look to the
future with the absolute despair which you naturally felt when I
last saw you."

Mrs. Presty laid the letter down, privately resolving to write to
Randal, and tell him to keep his convictions for the future to
himself. A glance at her daughter's face warned her, if she said
anything, to choose a new subject.

The second letter still remained unnoticed. "Shall we see what