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 broken right arm and two broken ribs is not fluent with his pen. But still a word or two did come to her. 'Dearest Mary, I am doing better and better, and I hope I shall see you in about a fortnight. Quite right in giving the money. Stick to the French. Your own F.G.' But as he signed himself her own, his mind misgave him that he was lying.

'It is very good of him to write to you while he is in such a state,' said Mrs. Thomas.

'Indeed it is,' said Mary—very good indeed.' And then she went on with the history of "Rasselas" in his happy valley, by which study Mrs. Thomas intended to initiate her into that course of novel-reading which has become necessary for a British lady. But Mrs. Thomas had a mind to improve the present occasion. It was her duty to inculcate in her pupil love and gratitude towards the beneficent man who was doing so much for her. Gratitude for favours past and love for favours to come; and now, while that scrap of a letter was lying on the table, the occasion for doing so was opportune.

'Mary, I do hope you love Mr. Graham with all your heart and all your strength.' She would have thought it wicked to say more; but so far she thought she might go, considering the sacred tie which was to exist between her pupil and the gentleman in question.

'Oh, yes, indeed I do;' and then Mary's eyes fell wishfully on the cover of the book which lay in her lap while her finger kept the place. Rasselas is not very exciting, but it was more so than Mrs. Thomas.

'You would be very wicked if you did not. And I hope you think sometimes of the very responsible duties which a wife owes to her husband. And this will be more especially so with you than with any other woman—almost that I ever heard of.'

There was something in this that was almost depressing to poor Mary's spirit, but nevertheless she endeavoured to bear up against it and do her duty. 'I shall do all I can to please him, Mrs. Thomas;—and indeed I do try about the French. And he says I was right to give papa that money.'

'But there will be many more things than that when you've stood at the altar with him and become his wife;—bone of his bone, Mary.' And she spoke these last words in a very solemn tone, shaking her head, and the solemn tone almost ossified poor Mary's heart as she heard it.

'Yes; I know there will. But I shall endeavour to find out what he likes.'

'I don't think he is so particular about his eating and drinking as some other gentlemen; though no doubt he will like his things nice.'

'I know he is fond of strong tea, and I sha'n't forget that.'