‘I hope so, sir,’ replied Oliver.

‘I shall not be at home again, perhaps for some time; I wish you would write to me — say once a fort-night: every alternate Monday: to the General Post Office in London. Will you?’

‘Oh! certainly, sir; I shall be proud to do it,’ exclaimed Oliver, greatly delighted with the commission.

‘I should like to know how — how my mother and Miss Maylie are,’ said the young man; ‘and you can fill up a sheet by telling me what walks you take, and what you talk about, and whether she — they, I mean — seem happy and quite well. You understand me?’

‘Oh! quite, sir, quite,’ replied Oliver.