Confessions of a Young Lady: Her Doings and Misdoings. Marsh Richard

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СКАЧАТЬ were one or two little matters in which I more than suspected that that character reader was a trifle at fault. But, after all, these were questions of opinion, and had nothing to do with the real point, which was, that I had won the hundred pounds.

      When we returned home I went upstairs, fetched my desk, carried it down to the morning-room, and prepared to write and tell everyone of my good fortune. In the frame of mind in which I was, it was not a piece of news which I was disposed to keep to myself. I opened the desk, got out the note-paper, found the pen, and just as I had got as far as-"My darling Hetty, – I've won a fortune! You never will guess how!" – I thought of Miss Winston's sentence. It was that which had brought me luck. I was convinced of it. If it had not been for the motto which that curiosity in character readers had found so singularly appropriate, I seriously doubted if I should have won. The least I could do was to kiss it, in memory of the writer.

      I had placed it-after making those six copies-in an envelope which I had endorsed "Miss Winston's Motto." I laid down my pen, raked out the envelope, took out the sheet of paper. On it was the sentence, not in Miss Winston's small, exquisite penmanship, but in my own great sprawling hand. For a moment or two I stared at it in bewildered surprise. Then, in the twinkling of an eye, I understood what had happened.

      In my characteristic blundering fashion I had confused my copy with her original. My writing I had packed into the envelope I was holding, and hers I had put into the one which I had sent to the paper. It was her caligraphy which had been adjudicated on, her character which had been deduced therefrom. The thing was as plain as plain could be-the whole business had had nothing whatever to do with me. I re-perused the winning character as it appeared in the paper. The man was not such an idiot as we had all supposed. It was not a bit like me; but it exactly described Miss Winston. She was all the lovely things he said she was, while I-I was none of them-I was just an addle-headed donkey.

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