"That was what you meant just now, when you said you had found what you wanted to know." Pattie had to sit down, for her limbs gave way under her. "And to-day—you meant to read more letters."
"No, I didn't. I meant just to put them back—the ones I had taken. I didn't want to keep them."
"Where are they?"
Mrs. Cragg brought the three sheets out of her pocket, and gave them to Pattie. The girl had grown white.
"You have read these?"
"Yes; I didn't see why I shouldn't,"—with another attempt to brazen it out. "I don't see why I shouldn't,—if you wouldn't tell me anything. It was your own fault—being so obstinate."
"If you have read them, I must read them too."
Mrs. Cragg fidgeted uneasily. Pattie sat motionless, her eyes travelling down one page after another.
"Yes," she said at the end, with a deep sigh. "That was what brought us away. I see it now. He was accused of something—and I guessed it partly. I was told, but of course I did not believe what I heard. And my father never explained. He only said it was a mistake, and he was not to blame. And I believed him—because I knew what he was. I knew he could not have done the thing he was accused of. You did not know him, and so you could not tell. And he wanted to spare me knowing about this. He knew it would make me unhappy, and so he kept it to himself. And you—you could find it out for yourself—you could pry into another's secrets! I can't say much to you, because Mr. Cragg has been so good to me, and because just now I depend upon you. But—after this, I cannot depend much longer. I must make a change as soon as possible. You have been very very cruel!"
Pattie hid her face.