Yet she had scarcely time to savour her rapture before that jealousy of the past mingled itself with the sensation.

Even such words as these he must have used to _her_, and had they not perchance come more readily to his lips?
Was he by nature so reserved?
Or, the more probable thing, was it that she failed at other times to inspire him?
How had _she_ been used to behave, to speak?
In her incessant brooding upon the details of Wilfrid's first affection, Beatrice had found one point which never lost its power to distract her; it was the thought of all the correspondence that must have passed between him and Emily.

What had become of those letters?
Had they been mutually returned?
It was impossible to discover.

Not even to her aunt could she put such a question as that; and it might very well be that Mrs.Baxendale knew nothing certainly.

If the story as she, Beatrice, had heard it was quite accurate, it seemed natural to suppose that Emily had requested to have her letters returned to her when she declared that the engagement must be at an end; but Wilfrid had refused to accept that declaration, and would he not also have refused to let the writing which was so precious to him leave his hands?
In that case he probably had the letters still; perhaps he still read them at times.