"Oh no!"

"And you have certainly never seen a play?"

"Never."

"Clear your head, child, of the nonsense that has got into it--I
can't think how. Rich Mr. Dunboyne has taught his heir to despise
the base act of marrying for money. He knows that Philip will
meet young ladies at my house; and he has written to me on
the subject of his son's choice of a wife. 'Let Philip find good
principles, good temper, and good looks; and I promise beforehand
to find the money.' There is what he says. Are you satisfied with
Philip's father, now?"

I jumped up in a state of ecstasy. Just as I had thrown my arms
round Mrs. Staveley's neck, the servant came in with a letter,
and handed it to me.

Helena had written again, on this last day of my visit. Her
letter was full of instructions for buying things that she wants,
before I leave London. I read on quietly enough until I came to
the postscript. The effect of it on me may be told in two words:
I screamed. Mrs. Staveley was naturally alarmed. "Bad news?"
she asked. Being quite unable to offer an opinion, I read
the postscript out loud, and left her to judge for herself.

This was Helena's news from home: