"I wish you would not encourage these people, dearest. They are so
extremely undesirable, and there is so much unrest in the State just
now that I cannot but regard them with anxiety."
Muriel murmured an apology, with the inward reservation to bestow her
alms next time when Lady Bassett was not looking on.
She found a letter lying on her table when she entered her room,
and took it up listlessly, without much interest. Her mind was
still running on those two anecdotes with which Bobby Fraser had so
successfully enlivened her boredom. The writing on the envelope was
vaguely familiar to her, but she did not associate it with anything
of importance. Absently she opened it, half reluctant to recall her
wandering thoughts. It came from a Hill station in Bengal, but that
told her nothing. She turned to the signature.
The next instant she had turned back again to the beginning, and was
reading eagerly. Her correspondent was Will Musgrave.
"Dear Miss Roscoe,"--ran the letter. "After long consideration
I have decided to write and beg of you a favour which I fancy
you will grant more readily than I venture to ask. My wife, as
you probably know, joined me some months ago. She is in very
indifferent health, and has expressed a most earnest wish to
see you.
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