there is anything in it you may not see. No; it is all very nice and
friendly."

He was about to hand over the letter, when he stopped.

"I do believe," he said, looking at Brand, "that you are capable of
thinking Natalie wrote this letter on purpose you should see it."

"Then you do me a great injustice," Brand said, without anger. "And you
do her a great injustice. I do not think it needs any profound judge of
character to see what that girl is."

"For that is one thing I could never forgive you, Brand."

"What?"

"If you were to suspect Natalie Lind."

This was no private and confidential communication that passed into
Brand's hand, but a frank, gossiping, sisterly note, stretching out
beyond its initial purpose. And there was no doubt at all that it was
mostly about Brand himself; and the reader grew red as he went on. He
had been so kind to them at Dover; and so interested in her papa's work;
and so anxious to be of service and in sympathy with them. And then she
spoke as if he were definitely pledged to them; and how proud she was to
have another added to the list of her friends. George Brand's face was
as red as his beard when he folded up the letter. He did not immediately
return it.

"What a wonderful woman that is!" said he, after a time. "I did not