"Souls," she answered, drily. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. It would be too mortifying. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. He was not due from the City until about six, and so she went and played Badminton with the Widgett girls until dinner-time.
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