Prissy pointed to her mistress, and Esther went to the armchair and adjusted a light shawl which was falling from the sleeping lady's shoulder. It was a slight action, but it was done with so much tenderness that Prissy smiled approvingly. She liked Esther much better than Ruth, who did not hold in her affections the place the other members of the family did. Humble as was her position in the household, she had observed things of which she disapproved. Ruth was from home more frequently than she considered proper, and had often said to her, "You need not tell my mother that I have gone out unless she asks you." Prissy had not disobeyed her, and the consequence was that Ruth was sometimes absent from the house for hours without her mother or father being aware of it. Prissy's idea was that her young mistress would bring trouble on the house; but she kept silence because she would otherwise have got into trouble herself with Ruth, and would also have distressed her dear lady if she had made mention of her suspicions, for which she could have offered no reasonable explanation. Prissy's distress of mind was not lessened because Ruth, when she enjoined secrecy upon her, gave her money, as if to purchase her silence. She would have refused these bribes; but Ruth forced them upon her, and she felt as if she were in a conspiracy to destroy the peace of the family. "I did not know she was asleep," said Esther, coming back to Prissy. "I'm sure you didn't, miss. She falls off, you know." "Yes, I know," said Esther, with affectionate solicitude. "As she used to do a good many years ago--long before you knew her, miss. She had gone through a severe illness, and was that delicate for months afterwards that you could almost blow her away. She never complained, and never did a cross word pass her lips. I'm glad you're with her, Miss Esther: you're a real comfort to her. I've got a letter for you, miss." "I didn't hear the postman." "The postman didn't bring it, miss," said Prissy, giving her the letter. "A boy. Said immejiet." "It must be from---- no." She was thinking of her lover as she looked at the letter, but she saw it was not his hand. She recognised the writing: it was Ruth's. "The envelope is not very clean, Prissy." "So I told the boy when he brought it to the back door." "The back door!" exclaimed Esther, rather bewildered. "It's curious, isn't it, miss, that it wasn't sent by post?" "Yes, it is. What did the boy say?" "It's what I said first, miss. 'You've been and dropped it in the gutter,' I said; but he only laughed, and said it was give to him this morning, and that he was to bring it to the servants' entrance and ask for Prissy." "But why didn't he deliver it this morning?" asked Esther, her bewilderment growing. "I don't know, miss. He's been playing in the streets all day, I expect. Anyway, he said I was to give it to you when nobody was looking. It's Miss Ruth's writing, miss."