I read as follows:--

"_My Dear Lady Margaret_,

You will be, perhaps, surprised to see a strange face in your room
today. I have dismissed your Irish maid, and secured a French one to
wait upon you; a step rendered necessary by my proposing shortly to
visit the Continent with all my family.

Your faithful guardian, "_ARTHUR TYRELL_."

On inquiry, I found that my faithful attendant was actually gone, and
far on her way to the town of Galway; and in her stead there appeared
a tall, raw-boned, ill-looking, elderly Frenchwoman, whose sullen and
presuming manners seemed to imply that her vocation had never before
been that of a lady's-maid. I could not help regarding her as a
creature of my uncle's, and therefore to be dreaded, even had she been
in no other way suspicious.

Days and weeks passed away without any, even a momentary doubt upon my
part, as to the course to be pursued by me. The allotted period had
at length elapsed; the day arrived upon which I was to communicate my
decision to my uncle. Although my resolution had never for a moment
wavered, I could not shake off the dread of the approaching colloquy;
and my heart sank within me as I heard the expected summons. I had
not seen my cousin Edward since the occurrence of the grand
_éclaircissement_; he must have studiously avoided me; I suppose from
policy, it could not have been from delicacy. I was prepared for a
terrific burst of fury from my uncle, as soon as I should make known
my determination; and I not unreasonably feared that some act of