“Nor after any good, I’ll venture to say!--but that is not the point, sir. I ask you where you went! and I intend to have an answer.” “I begs your pardon sincere, mistress, but mus’ ’cline for to ’form you.” “You old villain! Do you dare to defy me here on my own premises? I’ll see about this!” exclaimed the lady, in a voice more shrill than ladylike, as with a flushed face and excited air she turned into the house to summon Colonel Houston. But she was intercepted by Margaret, who had heard the voice, and now came from her own apartment and stood before her. “Stay, Mrs. Houston, I sent Forrest away on an errand, last night, and if he declined to inform you whither he went, it was from no disrespect to you; but from fidelity to me. I had enjoined him not to speak to any one of his errand,” she said, in a voice and manner so respectful as to take away everything offensive from her words. “You did! Now then where did you send him, Margaret? I am your guardian, and I have a right to know.” “You must forgive me, Mrs. Houston, if I decline to inform you,” replied the maiden, firmly, though still very respectfully. “I know, however. It was to mail that letter.” “You must draw your own conclusions, dear madam.” “I know it was to mail that letter! And I will put on my bonnet and drive over to the post office, and demand of the postmaster to whom the letter mailed last night by the negro Forrest was directed! There’s not so many letters go to that little office but what he will be able to recollect!” exclaimed Mrs. Houston, angrily. “Oh, God!” The words breathed forth possessed so much of prayerful woe that the little lady half started, and turned back to see Margaret grow pale and sink upon the corner of the hall settee. Mrs. Houston hesitated between her curiosity and anger on the one hand, and her pity on the other. Finally she made a compromise. Coming to Margaret’s side, she said: “Maggie, I am treated abominably, standing as I do in your mother’s place toward you, and being as I am your guardian--abominably! Now I am sure I do not wish to pry into your correspondence, unless it is an improper one.” “Mrs. Houston, my mother’s daughter could not have an improper correspondence, as you should be the first to feel assured.” “Yet, Margaret, as it appears to me, if this correspondence were proper, you would not be so solicitous to conceal it from me.” It occurred to Margaret to reply, “Mrs. Houston, suppose that I were writing sentimental letters to a female friend, which might not be really wrong, yet which I should not like to expose to your ridicule, would I not, in such a case, even though it were a proper correspondence, be solicitous to conceal it from you?”--but her exact truthfulness prevented her from putting this supposititious case, and as she did not in any other manner reply, Mrs. Houston continued: