Lady Torrendale had not forgotten her good custom, taken up at Woodlands, of sending Miss Melbourne notes, in what she called the language of ‘the dear region.’ When these contained any thing that could amuse the social circle, they were read aloud; but sometimes the ‘gipsy jargon’ was so unintelligible, as to be evidently intended for Miss Melbourne's eye alone. One evening when the usual party, consisting of Sowerby, his sister, Mrs. Melbourne, and Matilda, were assembled, one of these rose-coloured billets arrived; and, being delivered to Mr. / Sowerby by mistake, for one he had that day expected, was read by him, with good emphasis, for the benefit of the company. It was without a signature, and the following is a literal transcript of the contents:

'My dear soul,

‘We are all at sea without the admiral; are there no hopes of Vice or Rear? Above all things the Orange flag is to be preferred; but perhaps you would less scruple about the Mitre?’

Sowerby had the greatest confidence in the discretion of Matilda; but there was something in the allusions contained in this ambiguous billet, that staggered and confused all his ideas. He was aware Miss Melbourne might have met at Lady Torrendale's many acquaintance, of whom he knew nothing. But if she confided plans to a stranger, from which he was excluded; if he was to lose the character of her friend and guide, life no longer presented to him any thing pleasing or desirable. These thoughts, as they rapidly crossed his mind, betrayed themselves partly in his countenance. Miss Melbourne observed them, and the innocent and spontaneous burst of laughter, in which she so seldom indulged, instantly restored his good humour, and dispelled his fears. ‘May I be entrusted then with the key to this wonderful and astonishing billet?’ he asked with a smile.