The door closed, and I heard the feet of Mary slowly moving along the passage. Then the murmur of her voice reached my ears. Presently I heard her say: "I wonder who it is from? Mrs. Smith gets a great many letters. No envelope, thank goodness! but a plain, good old fashioned letter. I must see who it is from." By this time Mary had stepped within the back parlor. I stood, hid from her view, by one of the folding doors, which was closed, but within a few feet of her. "From Mrs. Jackson! Hum--m. I wonder what she's got to say? Something about me, I'll bet a dollar." There was a very apparent change in the thermometer of Mary's feelings at this last thought, as was evident from the tone of her voice. "Lace collars--stockings--pocket han--. I can't make out that word, but it is handkerchiefs, of course," thus Mary read and talked to herself. "Breastpin--this is too mean! It's not true, neither. I'm a great mind to burn the letter. Mrs. Smith would never be the wiser. I won't give it to her now, at any rate. I'll put it in my pocket, and just think about it." The next sound that came to my ears was the pattering of Mary's feet as she went hurrying up the stairs. In a few minutes I followed. In one of my chambers I found Mary, and said to her: "Didn't the carrier leave me a letter just now?" The girl hesitated a moment, and then answered: "Oh, yes, ma'am. I have it here in my pocket." And she drew forth the letter, crumbled, as was usually the case with all that passed through her hands. I took it, with some gravity of manner; for I felt, naturally enough, indignant. Mary flushed a little under the steady eye that I fixed upon her. The letter, or note, was from my friend, Mrs. Jackman, and read as follows: "MY DEAR MRS. SMITH.--Do call in and see me some time to-day. I have bought some of the cheapest laces, stockings, and cambric pocket handkerchiefs that ever were seen. There are more left; and at a great bargain. You must have some. And, by the way, bring with you that sweet breastpin I saw you wear at Mrs. May's last Thursday evening. I want to examine it closely. I must have one just like it. Do come round to-day; I've lots of things to say to you. Yours, &c." "Nothing so dreadful in all that," I said to myself, as I re-folded the letter. "My curious lady's conscience must be a little active! Let's see what is to come of this." It is hardly in the nature of woman to look very lovingly upon the servant whom she has discovered peeping into her letters. At least, it was not in my nature. I, therefore, treated Mary with becoming gravity, whenever we happened to meet. She, under the circumstances, was ill at ease; and rather shunned contact with me. The morning passed away, and the afternoon waned until towards five o'clock, when the accumulating pressure on Mary's feelings became so great that she was compelled to seek relief.