[The Reverend Arthur Warrington thanks Paddy O’Connell for services
rendered.]
The Red Farm, Beldon, Suffolk,
Eve of the Feast of St. Raphael.
Dear Mr. O’Connell,--I am much obliged by your letter and packages
containing the little books you were unfortunately unable to deliver
to my poor cousin. I thank you also for your friendliness towards Mrs.
Warrington during her mission or charity to the great Metropolis.
That there is no further news concerning this unhappy affair
distresses me greatly. The wages of sin are dreadful indeed; leading,
it would appear, beyond the promises of Holy Writ to these awful
mysteries this twentieth century brings before us. I have no doubt
that poor Harry meant well when he married this girl; but I cannot
forget that he was not blessed by Holy Church, and that he is now
reaping the fruit of his indifference.
A home broken up, this dreadful suspicion hovering about his poor
wife’s name--oh, my dear sir, what moral lessons do not these things
convey. Let us offer him what consolation we can, remembering with the
poet Shakespeare that--murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
with most miraculous organ.
I pray God that these assassins will be brought to justice
speedily.--And am, with renewed thanks, my dear sir,
Yours faithfully,
Arthur Warrington.
P.S.--Would you be good enough to remind Mrs. Warrington, who in her
distress may have overlooked so trifling a detail of the domestic
curriculum, that the patterns of the chintz did not reach me from
Smallgroves, and that she would do well to see the people about it
while she is in London?