make out the whole of it, for certain. But surely it is not beyond the
compass of masculine capacity."

"Yes, it is, Maria; and you know it well enough. No honest Englishman
can endure a word of French. Latin, or Greek, or even Hebrew--though I
took to that rather late in life. But French is only fit for women, and
very few of them can manage it. Let us hear what this Frenchman says."

"He is not a Frenchman, Joshua. He is an Englishman, and probably a very
fine one. I won't be sure about all of his letter, because it is so long
since I was at school; and French books are generally unfit to read. But
the general meaning is something like this:


'MY BELOVED AND HIGHLY VALUED AUNT,--Since I heard from you there
are many years now, but I hope you have held me in memory. I have the
intention of returning to the country of England, even in this bad time
of winter, when the climate is most funereal. I shall do my best to call
back, if possible, the scattered ruins of the property, and to institute
again the name which my father made displeasing. In this good work you
will, I have faith, afford me your best assistance, and the influence
of your high connection in the neighbourhood. Accept, dear aunt, the
assurance of my highest consideration, of the most sincere and the most
devoted, and allow me the honour of writing myself your most loving and
respectful nephew,

'CARYL CARNE.'


Now, Joshua, what do you think of that?"