One was from Mr.Johnson, one from Mr.Brown, one from Miss Monro; of course the last mentioned was the first read.

She spoke of the shock of the discovery of Mr.Dunster's body, found in the cutting of the new line of railroad from Hamley to the nearest railway station; the body so hastily buried long ago, in its clothes, by which it was now recognised--a recognition confirmed by one or two more personal and indestructible things, such as his watch and seal with his initials; of the shock to everyone, the Osbaldistones in particular, on the further discovery of a fleam or horse-lancet, having the name of Abraham Dixon engraved on the handle; how Dixon had gone on Mr.Osbaldistone's business to a horse-fair in Ireland some weeks before this, and had had his leg broken by a kick from an unruly mare, so that he was barely able to move about when the officers of justice went to apprehend him in Tralee.
At this point Ellinor cried out loud and shrill.
"Oh, Dixon! Dixon! and I was away enjoying myself." They heard her cry, and came to the door, but it was bolted inside.
"Please, go away," she said; "please, go.

I will be very quiet; only, please, go." She could not bear just then to read any more of Miss Monro's letter; she tore open Mr.Johnson's--the date was a fortnight earlier than Miss Monro's; he also expressed his wonder at not hearing from her, in reply to his letter of January 9; but he added, that he thought that her trustees had judged rightly; the handsome sum the railway company had offered for the land when their surveyor decided on the alteration of the line, Mr.Osbaldistone, &c.

&c.

She could not read anymore; it was Fate pursuing her.