How could she go to the hotel with such a
message?
"Well, send a note to him, Wenna--send him a note by the girl down
stairs. What harm is there in that?"
"Lie down, then, mother," said the girl calmly, "and I will send a
message to Mr. Trelyon."
She drew her chair to the table, and her cheeks crimsoned to think of
what he might imagine this letter to mean when he got the envelope in
his hands. Her fingers trembled as she wrote the date at the head of
the note. Then she came to the word "Dear," and it seemed to her that
if shame were a punishment, she was doing sufficient penance for her
indiscretion of that morning. Yet the note was not a compromising one.
It merely said--
"DEAR MR. TRELYON: If you have a moment to spare, my mother
would be most obliged to you if you would call on her. I hope
you will forgive the trouble.
"Yours sincerely,
WENNA ROSEWARNE."
When the young man got that note--he was just entering the hotel when
the servant arrived--he stared with surprise. He told the girl he
would call on Mrs. Rosewarne directly. Then he followed her.
He never for a moment doubted that this note had reference to his own
affairs. Wenna had told her mother what had happened. The mother
wished to see him to ask him to cease visiting them. Well, he was
prepared for that.
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