It
may not be amiss to mention also that, although poor and distorted,
they are of gentle blood as well as noble nature. With this
preamble, I venture to propose that you should meet me at their
cottage. To them it would not appear at all strange that one of my
congregation should wish to see me alone, and I know you may trust
their discretion. But while I write thus, with all confidence in you
and in them, I must tell you that I have none in myself. I feel both
ashamed and perplexed that you should imagine any help in me. Of all
I know, I am the poorest creature to give counsel. All I can say for
myself is that I think I see a glimmer of light, and light is light,
through whatever cranny, and into whatever poverty-stricken chamber,
it may fall. Whatever I see I will say. If I can see nothing to help
you, I will be silent. And yet I may be able to direct you where to
find what I cannot give you. If you accept my plan, and will appoint
day and hour, I shall acquaint the Polwarths with the service we
desire of them. Should you object to it, I shall try to think of
another. I am, dear Miss Lingard, yours very truly, Thomas
Wingfold."
He placed the letter between the pages of a pamphlet, took his hat
and stick, and was walking down Pine Street as the Abbey clock
struck eleven.
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