"Oh, it is dreadful!" gasped the little girl. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
"Shall I read this?" inquired Mr. Dawson, picking up the letter which Mousey had allowed to flutter to the floor.
"Please read it aloud, Uncle Dick," she requested, "then Aunt Eliza will understand too."
He complied immediately. There was a minute's silence when he had finished, broken by an indignant exclamation from his wife.
"What a wicked boy!" she cried. "The idea of his serving his master like that!"
"I am disappointed in him," Mr. Dawson remarked, shaking his head sorrowfully. "I knew from the short conversation he and I had together that he was dissatisfied with his lot in life, but he appeared an outspoken lad, not in the least underhand or shifty. Dear me, I am very sorry!"
"Oh, you don't understand, either of you!" Mousey exclaimed. "He is not as bad as you think."
"I don't want to misjudge anyone," Mr. Dawson said gently, "least of all a poor boy who has never had the advantages of a good home training, but you must agree with me, my dear little girl, that he has acted very badly."
Mousey reflected for a moment. She wondered if it would be wrong for her to tell how John Monday had been led to speak of his master's business; how bitterly he had repented of having done so; and how the remembrance had been a continual terror to him. She thought, as he had himself confessed the truth to Mr. Harding, it would be no betrayal of confidence if she told the whole story to her uncle and aunt as the boy had told it to her. This she accordingly did, and was relieved to find afterwards that they were not so inclined to think badly of John Monday as they had been at first, though still seeing, of course, that he was greatly to blame.
"I should say it is extremely unlikely he has joined that Herbert Hambly," Mr. Dawson remarked thoughtfully; "from what you have told us, Mousey, it seems he was really horrified when he discovered the young man's true character."