You are not Mr Irving's child. You were born before your mother
married. While it is not your fault, only your misfortune, it would
be wise for you to go where the facts are not so well known as in the
congregation of St Blank's. There are people in that congregation
who consider you guilty of a wilful deception in wearing the name you
do, and of an affront to good taste in accepting the position you
occupy. Many people talk of leaving the church on your account.
Your gifts as a musician would win you a position elsewhere, and as I
learn that your mother's life was insured for a considerable sum, I
am sure you are able to seek new fields where you can bide your
disgrace.
"A WELL-WISHER."
Quivering with pain and terror, the young girl cast the letter into
the fire, thinking that it was the work of one of those half-crazed
beings whose mania takes the form of anonymous letters to unoffending
people. Only recently such a person had been brought into the courts
for this offence. It occurred to her also that it might be the work
of someone who wished to obtain her position as organist of St
Blank's. Musicians, she knew, were said to be the most jealous of
all people, and while she had never suffered from them before, it
might be that her time had now come to experience the misfortunes of
her profession.
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