My mother said it would do me good; she saw I was
flagging, but she little guessed at the continual torment of
anxiety, and my wonder at the warning about Griff.
At the end of the week came another letter.
'You need not speak yet. Papa and mamma will know soon enough. I
brought down 150 pounds in specie, to be paid over to Tooke. He
avers that only 130 pounds was received. What is my word worth
against his? I am told that if I am not prosecuted it will only be
out of respect to my father. I am not dismissed yet, but shall get
notice as soon as letters come from Ireland. I have written, but it
is not in the nature of things that Mr. Castleford should not accept
such proofs as have been sent him. I have no hope, and shall be
glad when it is over. The part of black sheep is not a pleasant
one. Say not a word, and do not let my father come up. He could do
no good, and to see him believing it all would be the last drop in
the bucket.
N.B.--In this pass, nothing would be saved by bringing Griff into
it, so be silent on your life. Innocence does not seem to be much
comfort at present. Maybe it will come in time. I know you will
not drop me, dear Ted, wherever I may be.'
Need I tell the distress of those days of suspense and silence, when
my only solace was in being left alone, and in writing letters to
Clarence which were mostly torn up again.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212