'I do not know whether you will be sorry or glad to see this,' said
Lady Merrifield, producing a half-burnt roll of paper. 'It was found
in Mr. Flinders's grate, and my brother thought you would be glad that
it should not get into strange hands.'
'Oh, it was cruel! it was base! What a wicked man he is!' cried
Constance, with hot tears, as she beheld the mutilated condition of her
poor 'Waif.'
'Yes, it was a most unfortunate thing that you. should have run into
intercourse with such an utterly untrustworthy person.'
'I was grossly deceived, Lady Merrifield!' said Constance, clasping her
hands somewhat theatrically.
'I shall never believe in any one again!'
'Not without better grounds, I hope,' was the answer. 'Your poor
little friend is terribly broken down by all this.'
'Don't call her my friend. Lady Merrifield. She has used me
shamefully! What business had she to tell me he was her uncle when he
was no such thing?'
'She had been always used to call him so.'
'Don't tell me, Lady Merrifield,' said Constance, who, after her first
fright, was working herself into a passion. 'You don't know what a
little viper you have been warming, nor what things she has been
continually saying of you. She told me--'
Lady Merrifield held up her hand with authority.
'Stay, Constance. Do you think it is generous in you to tell me this?'
'I am sure you ought to know.'
'Then why did you encourage her?'
'I pitied her--I believed her--I never thought she would have led me
into this!'
'How did she lead you?'
'Always talking about her precious, persecuted uncle.
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