“If not to Franky, to whom then? It cannot be to your father or Ralph, for they have just left you. Come! this is getting interesting! Who is your correspondent, little one? Your old duenna insists upon knowing.” Margaret turned pale, but remained silent. “Dear me, how mysterious you are! My curiosity is growing irresistible! Who is it?” Margaret suddenly burst into tears. This brought the heedless little lady to her senses. She hastened to soothe and apologize. “Why, Margaret, my dear child! Why, Margaret! Dear me, how sorry I am! I am very sorry, Margaret! What a thoughtless chatterbox I am of my age! But then I was only teazing you to rouse you a little, my dear! I did not mean to hurt you! And then I had such a pleasant surprise for you. Forgive me.” Margaret slipped her left hand into Mrs. Houston’s (her right was still pressed upon the letter), and said: “Forgive me. It is I who am nervous and irritable and require sufferance. You are very, very kind to me in all things, and I feel it.” The little lady stooped and kissed her, saying: “Such words are absurd between you and me, Maggie. Come, I will leave you now to finish your letter, and return to you by and by.” And then she left the room, thinking within herself: “The sensitive little creature! Who would have thought my heedless words would have distressed her so? I did not care about knowing to whom the letter was written, I am sure. But, by the way, to whom could she have been writing? And, now I reflect, it was very strange that she should have been so exceedingly distressed by my questionings! It never occurred to me before, but it really was rather mysterious! I must try to find out what it all means! I ought to do so! I am her guardian, her mother-in-law. I am responsible for her to her father and to her betrothed husband.” Meanwhile Margaret Helmstedt had started up, closed the door and turned the key, and clasping her pale face between her hands, began pacing the floor and exclaiming at intervals: “Oh, Heaven of heavens, how nearly all had been lost! Oh, I am unfit, I am unfit for this dreadful trust! To think I should have set down to write to him, and left the door unfastened! Farewell to liberty and frankness! I am given over to bonds, to vigilance and secretiveness forever! Oh, mother! my mother! I will be true to you! Oh, our Father who art in heaven, help me to be firm and wise and true!” She came back at last, and sat down to her writing-desk, and finished her letter. Then opening her pocketbook, she took out the check for five hundred dollars, drawn by her father, in her favor, on a Baltimore bank, inclosed it in the letter, sealed and directed it, and placed it in the sanctity of her bosom. Then folding her arms upon her writing-desk, she dropped her head upon them, and in that attitude of dejection remained until the ringing of the supper bell aroused her.