A LOST LETTER.
IT is a trite saying that the powers of evil help those who are on
their side. That night, by a misadventure, Cecil dropped the letter
which Miss Forester had written to her. By a more cruel misadventure
Matilda picked it up. Cecil and Molly had both written to Miss
Forester; their letters had reached the post in time to catch the
London mail. Their minds were quite light and happy on the subject. To
make all safe, Cecil intended to destroy Miss Forester's letter before
she went to bed that night. Kate's bedroom was on the drawing-room
floor, but Matilda, Molly, and Cecil slept on the floor above. Cecil
carried her portfolio under her arm; it was packed with letters, slips
of paper, and small documents of all kind. Miss Forester's letter,
among others, had been crowded into this overfull receptacle; it
slipped out, no one knew how. Quick as thought, Matilda put her foot on
it. Cecil did not notice the circumstance. Matilda slipped the letter
into her pocket, reached her bedroom, and danced about.
"Now I have it," she said to herself; "now I am safe; no one can accuse
me now of having eavesdropped. I am safe; I know exactly what to do in
the future."
She went to bed, hugging the precious letter in her hand; she slept
with it under her pillow, put it away in a locked drawer early the next
morning, and came down to breakfast in high spirits. When she entered
the room, she heard Cecil mentioning the fact that she missed a letter.
"I must have dropped it last night," she said. "I have searched
everywhere for it."
"Whose letter is it?" asked Molly, looking up innocently.
"It is one Miss Forester wrote to me."
"Oh, have you heard from Miss Forester?" inquired Kate. "Is there any
news? Did she say anything about me?"
"She hopes you are getting better," said Cecil calmly. "She is very
anxious that we should work specially hard next term."
"I hope she will allow me to work," said Kate. "I am sure I long for it
with all my heart and soul. After what Mr. Danvers said yesterday, I
suppose I ought to give up classics."
"Nothing of the kind," interrupted Maurice. "Cecil, will you give me a
cup of coffee? Old Danvers scolds everyone about their classics," he
continued. "He is the best loved and most feared master in the whole
of our school. He is a splendid chap; but Homer is his red rag; he
worships Homer to such an extent that it is like touching a raw spot
if, in translating the old Greek hero, you make the slightest mistake.
Danvers is a wonderful linguist. By the way, do you know Irish, Kate?"
"A little," replied Kate.
"Well, you talk to him about the Celts, if ever you have an
opportunity; just open out to him on the subjects you do know a lot
about. He'll forget that you are a girl in less than three minutes, and
then he'll become perfectly delightful. Cecil, what in the world are
you frowning about?"
"I am fretting about my letter," said Cecil. "I can't imagine where it
has got to. Did you happen to see it, Matilda?"
"I saw you carrying up a lot of letters last night," said Matilda.
"Oh, yes, to be sure, and you were just behind me. I didn't drop a
letter by any chance, did I?"
"Not that I know of," replied Matilda calmly.
"Well, you certainly would have seen it if I had."
"I probably should. Will you pass me the toast, Molly; and the
marmalade, Jimmy? You might have dropped it without my seeing it, of
course, Cecil. If I had seen it, I'd have naturally given it back to
you."
"Yes, of course you would. Well, I must have a good search for it."
"You know you tore up a lot of letters, and put them in the waste-paper
basket," said Molly.
"Yes, but not Miss Forester's. I thought I'd read that once again
before I consigned it to the flames."
"We'll have a good search for it after breakfast," said Molly.
They did; they all joined in the search; even Kate, who was never to
know the contents of that important letter; even Matilda, who knew
exactly where she could put her hand on it. But, search high and low,
inquire as they would, they could not find it, and finally Cecil had to
yield to Molly's oft-repeated idea that she had, without knowing it,
burnt it, with a lot of other waste paper, the night before.
"I suppose I did," said Cecil, with a sigh. "It seems the only solution
of the mystery, but I never knew that I was subject to such a complete
lapse of memory."
"Well, come out now, and let us forget all about it," said Maurice.
"The day is sunshine itself, and we can go for a real good long walk,
and I'll get Danvers to follow us. We'll make for those caves where the
skeletons are. Danvers is mad on the subject of skeletons. We'll all
meet there, and I'll undertake that, after five minutes' time, he'll
absolutely forget that there are any girls in the party."
"Kitty you must come out to-day," said Cecil. "You are not even to look
at that blessed Homer of yours; you must spend the entire day until
dark in the open air."
"I am more than willing," replied Kate, with a laugh.
"Are you coming, Matty?" asked Molly.
"I suppose I had better; can't we go into the town, though? I don't
care a bit for caves nor skeletons. I shall probably dream of the
skeletons to-night."
"Minority must yield to majority," said Kate, with a laughing glance at
Matilda.
Matilda colored.
"You shall pay for this, my beauty," she said, under her breath. "All
right," she remarked, in a gentle tone, aloud. "I had better go and get
ready then."
She slipped out of the room as she spoke.
"How mild and good she is getting!" said Kate, with a laugh.
"Too good," interrupted Cecil. "When that sort of girl turns good, one
has to look out for storms."
"You'd better set me on her," said Jimmy.
"For shame!" cried Molly. "I think it is mean to doubt anyone when they
are trying to behave properly. Matilda has certainly not been nearly so
troublesome as we expected; for my part, I don't mind her being here a
bit."
"Do just see if Molly's wings are sprouting, Jimmy," cried Kate.
The whole party started off soon for their walk to the caves. They had
gone about a mile when Matilda declared that her feet hurt her, that
her chilblains were worse than ever, and that she wished to go home. As
none of the others particularly valued her society, she was allowed
to depart without any strenuous opposition. She soon reached her room,
took out Miss Forester's letter, and read it, for the third or fourth
time, with a feeling of keen satisfaction. Before she had read the
letter she had been in possession of its most salient facts; now her
one object was to convey the news which she had acquired to Kate. Her
difficulty lay in the fact that if she breathed a syllable of what she
knew, she would be immediately accused of having again stooped to the
petty crime of eavesdropping. Kate must certainly learn the contents of
the letter, but in such a way that Matilda should not appear at all in
the matter.
"Kate must find the letter," thought Matilda, as she sat with it on her
lap, and put her brains in soak, as she expressed it. "Kate must not
only find the letter, but she must find it in such a way, and under
such circumstances, that she will be tempted to read the contents.
Now, if I know Kate O'Connor aright, she is one of those dreadfully
scrupulous, honorable people who would not read another person's letter
for the world. If she finds the letter lying snug and neat in its
envelope she will never glance at it; she will return it to Cecil, and
all my little endeavors for her enlightenment on a certain important
subject will be thrown away. Kate must not only find the letter, but
she must read it. Now, how shall I manage?"
Matilda thought and thought; the riddle she had to solve was a somewhat
difficult one. How was she to put the letter in Kate's way? and how
was she to induce Kate to read it when she found it? After careful
thought, a scheme occurred to her on which she resolved to act. Molly
Lavender was under the impression that the lost letter had really been
destroyed the night before by Cecil. Matilda determined to follow
up this idea. The letter, when found, should be torn and slightly
burned; the inscription should be gone; but the most salient point, the
words which specially alluded to Kate, should stand out in startling
distinctness. Kate should find the charred letter, should pick it up;
the hastily divided parts could easily be put together. Matilda should
come into the room at the critical moment, see the letter, pounce upon
it, and read aloud some of the most startling sentences before Kate
could stop her. The wicked girl laid her plans with care; she took the
envelope off Miss Forester's letter and burned it. She tore the letter
then into three parts, slightly singed the edges with a lighted candle,
and slipped them under the fender in the drawing room. Her intention
was to push the fender aside and disclose the letter when only Kate was
in the room. Having laid her little bombshell with extreme care, she
became cheerful and happy. By the time the others had returned she was
dressed in her most becoming frock, and danced out to meet them in high
good-humor.
"Well, I hope you have had a jolly day," she said. "Do let us have
charades or something lively to-night. I have been as dull as
ditch-water all the afternoon; but if we have a gay evening, I shall
go to bed feeling well and jolly. Let us have charades after tea; they
will help to pass the long evening."
"A capital idea," said Maurice, "and Mr. Danvers acts splendidly. What
do you say, Cecil? shall we get up something?"
"I am quite agreeable," said Cecil; "but who will act?"
"I will if you like," said Molly.
"And I won't," said Kate. "I have walked too much, and my head aches."
"We had better divide ourselves into two parties," said Matilda, "one
to look on and the other to act; then each will have a turn at both
sides of the game. Oh, come, Kate, you must act when it is your party's
turn."
The young people all sat together, and arranged their plans for the
evening, while Maurice ran off to beg Mr. Danvers not to fail them.
As the little man had absolutely forgotten that he had not spent the
entire day with a party of schoolboys, he willingly agreed, and came in
just after the supper was cleared away.
"Kate's room must act as the greenroom," exclaimed Cecil; "it opens
into the drawing room, and will do splendidly. We must do without
curtains or anything of that sort."
The hastily got up charades were acted with much spirit. At last there
came the moment which Matilda had anxiously planned and watched for,
when she and Kate found themselves alone in the drawing room.
"How dull the fire is!" said Matilda, going to the hearth. "Oh, I know!
the bottom of the grate is choked up with ashes. I'll clear them out."
"No, don't!" said Kate; "it will make such a dust."
"I must clear the grate," exclaimed Matilda, "or we shall all perish
with cold. Help me, Kate; just pull that fender aside. I want to make
the hearth look tidy."
Kate did so, and the burned letter appeared in view. She knew Miss
Forester's writing, and her color changed.
"Why, there's the letter which Cecil has missed!" she cried. "It was
burned, but not wholly. Just let me throw it into the flames."
"Hurrah, Miss Forester's letter!" cried Matilda. "Oh, I say! it's all
about you, Kate O'Connor. Here, see what she says:
"'I, of course, trust you girls not to say a word about this scheme to
Kate; she must on no account know that she is penniless. Mrs. Percival
will pay all her school fees, and when she has passed creditably
through Redgarth, I will then myself acquaint her with the truth. For
all reasons I think it wisest to keep the knowledge from her at the
present moment.'"
"Don't read any more," said Kate; her face was like a sheet.
Matilda glanced at her with wide open, innocent eyes.
"Throw that letter into the fire," said Kate; "you had no right to read
it to me. Throw it in; be quick! Why don't you do what you are told?"
"Yes, of course," said Matilda; "but _how_ queer! So you are to be a
charity girl, after all."
"Hush," said Kate; "hush!"
She snatched the letter from Matilda's hands, and flung it into the
blaze; the flames licked it up quickly; the writing disappeared, and
Kate turned round with a ready laugh and roses on her cheeks to greet
the young actors who at that moment bustled into the room.
"Does she really mind, after all?" thought Matilda to herself, as she
watched her.