While her father on Sunday morning was transacting business in his own house with Paul Montague and the great commercial magnates of the city,--though it may be doubted whether that very respectable gentleman Sir Gregory Gribe was really in Grosvenor Square when his name was mentioned,--Marie was walking inside the gardens; Didon was also there at some distance from her; and Sir Felix Carbury was there also close along side of her. Marie had the key of the gardens for her own use; and had already learned that her neighbours in the square did not much frequent the place during church time on Sunday morning. Her lover's letter to her father had of course been shown to her, and she had taxed him with it immediately. Sir Felix, who had thought much of the letter as he came from Welbeck Street to keep his appointment,--having been assured by Didon that the gate should be left unlocked, and that she would be there to close it after he had come in,--was of course ready with a lie. "It was the only thing to do, Marie;--it was indeed."
"But you said you had accepted some offer."
"You don't suppose I wrote the letter?"
"It was your handwriting, Felix."

On Sunday morning, while her father was doing business with Paul Montague in Grosvenor Square, Marie was walking in the square's gardens. Didon was there, at some distance; and Sir Felix Carbury was alongside her. Marie had learned that her neighbours did not frequent the square during church time on Sunday morning.
Her lover's letter to her father had of course been shown to her, and she taxed him with it immediately. Sir Felix was ready with a lie.
"It was the only thing to do, Marie; it was indeed. 