"Oh! you clever fellow!" interrupted Betsy, shaking her head with mock gravity. "But what did the letter say?"
"Why, it was a regular sermon," answered Old Death. "It talked about how much she loved him—all she had done and suffered on his account—and a lot of gammon of that kind. She told him how her father had made her take an oath not to see him any more, and how unhappy she was. Then she begged of him to repent and leave a course of life that is sure to end at Tuck-up Fair."
"Did she use them words?" demanded Mrs. Bunce.
"No, you fool!" cried Old Death. "She writes quite like a lady, and in a beautiful hand too! But, after having said all I have told you, she let him know that she shuddered at the idea of being connected with a highwayman: and she begged his pardon for calling him so."
"A pleasant letter for Tom to receive!" observed Mrs. Bunce.
"Very. And she drops a hint," continued Old Death, "that if he will give up his business, there is a chance of her father forgiving Tom for what is past, and of their being _re-united_—that's the very word."
"Do you think they are married, then?" asked the woman.
"I should say not," replied Bones; "because she talks of being _connected_ with a highwayman—and that's not a word a wife uses to her husband. Besides, the whole letter didn't look like one written by a wife—but rather a mistress. And then it ends by saying that she hopes to find a letter from him at the post-office in Southampton Row."
"Why, to-day—this evening, I suppose," said Old Death. "She had evidently written _her_ letter _before_ she went to the post-office in Southampton Row, where she _did_ find one from him—because she was reading a note when Jacob first twigged her. And it was singular enough that we were just talking of her at that very identical moment."
"Then the letter you read wasn't an answer to the one she received in Southampton Row?" said Mrs. Bunce.
"Of course not, stupid!" cried Old Death. "We followed her straight down to Holborn, and she never stopped or went in any where to write an answer. The letter I read was already written—written too in the afternoon, most likely just before she came out to go to Southampton Row. And another reason that made me anxious to get hold of her letter to Tom Rain, was that she didn't post it at the office where she received _his_, but took the trouble to go down to Holborn to put it into another box."