Mrs. March laughed at Baggs’s discriminating appreciation of well-spoken Italian, and then remarked carelessly: “It must have been Mr.—But there, I haven’t told you his name, have I? Did the gentleman send any message by you—verbally, I mean?” “Oh, yes, ma’am,” replied Baggs with embarrassment. “He said as how he embraced your feet, ma’am, and kissed your footsteps, ma’am, and—beg pardon, ma’am—the gentleman kissed me, too, ma’am, he did.” “You mustn’t mind that, you know, Baggs,” answered Mrs. March, smiling. “You know, foreign ways are different from ours.” “They are, ain’t they just, ma’am?” assented Baggs, remembering some other things which she did not think it necessary to report—as well as a more palpable evidence which she did not mind mentioning. “They is different, as you say, ma’am, for the gentleman gave me a sovereign.” “That was good of him,” remarked Mrs. March. “You shall have another sovereign to put on top of that one. You will find my purse on my dressing-table—help yourself.” “Oh, thank you, thank you, ma’am,” blurted out Baggs, wondering if her lady were just right in the head. “But see here, Baggs,” said Mrs. March as the maid was about to obey her last command and go and find the purse; “Baggs, you have been doing a great many confidential things for me lately. Don’t lose your head and make yourself ridiculous now. I have done nothing about which I might not have the whole world hear. If I were engaged in anything wrong or unseemly, do you think for a moment that I would be such a fool as to make my servants my confidants? No. So remember that if you speak of my affairs to anyone, you will simply lose your place and your good character, and not inconvenience me in the least possible degree. Now do you understand me?” “I understand you, ma’am, perfect,” replied Baggs, mentally calculating whether her mistress took her for an absolute donkey or was merely joking. “I’m glad you do understand—that will do,” said Mrs. March, and Baggs with a courtesy disappeared into the house. The instant that she found herself alone Mrs. March tore open the letter feverishly. She started violently at once, and when she steadied herself enough to finish reading it she fell back upon the garden seat, where she sat in manifest consternation and doubt. For some moments she seemed to be in the clutches of a horrible anxiety which baffled all effort to decide upon action of any sort. Then she heard voices approaching, jumped up, tearing the letter nervously into two or three pieces which fell upon the seat beside her, and ran into the house. CHAPTER X