“True! true! true! Oh, that was very providential! Oh, thank Heaven!” exclaimed Margaret, fervently clasping her hands.
The old man bowed and retired.
After breakfast, Mrs. Houston, without explaining the motive of her journey to any one, ordered her carriage, and drove to the village as upon a shopping excursion.
Now you have not known Mrs. Nellie Houston thus long without discovering that with some good qualities, she was, in some respects, a very silly woman. She drove up to the post office, and by her indiscreet questions respecting “a certain letter mailed the night before by Forrest, the messenger of her ward, Miss Helmstedt,” set the weak-headed young postmaster to wondering, conjecturing and speculating. And when she found that he could give her no satisfaction in respect of the letter, she made matters worse by directing him to detain any letters sent there by her ward, Miss Helmstedt, unless such letters happened to be directed to a Helmstedt or a Houston, who were the only correspondents of Miss Helmstedt recognized by her family.
The postmaster thereupon informed Mrs. Houston, that if she wished to interfere with the correspondence of her ward, she must do so at her own discretion, and necessarily before they should be sent to his office, as he had no authority to detain letters sent thither to be mailed, and might even be subjected to prosecution for so doing.
Mrs. Houston went away baffled and angered, and also totally unconscious of the serious mischief she had set on foot.
To an idle and shallow young man she had spoken indiscreetly of the young maiden whose orphanage she had promised to cherish and defend, exposing her actions to suspicion and her character to speculation. She had left the spotless name of Margaret Helmstedt a theme of low village gossip.
And thus having done as much evil as any foolish woman could well do in an hour, she entered her carriage, and with the solemn conviction of having discharged her duty, drove home to the Bluff.
“God defend me, only, from my friends, for of my enemies I can myself take care,” prayed one who seemed to have known this world right well.
From that day Margaret Helmstedt, whenever she had occasion to write a letter, took care to turn the key of her room door; and whenever she had occasion to mail one, took equal precaution to give it, unperceived, into the hands of Forrest, with directions that he should drop it into the letter-box at a moment when he should see other letters, from other sources, going in. Poor girl! she was slowly acquiring an art hateful to her soul. And one also that did not avail her greatly. For notwithstanding all her precautions, the report crept about that Miss Helmstedt had a secret correspondent, very much disapproved of by her friends. And in course of time also, the name of this correspondent transpired. And this is the manner in which it happened. Young Simpson, the postmaster, to whom Mrs. Houston had so imprudently given a portion of her confidence, found his curiosity piqued to discover who this forbidden correspondent might be, and after weeks of patient waiting, convinced himself that the letters addressed in a fair Italian hand to a certain person were those dropped into the box by Miss Helmstedt’s messenger, old Forrest. A few more observations confirmed this conviction. Then wishing to gain consequence in the eyes of Mrs. Houston, he availed himself of the first opportunity presented by the presence of that lady at the office to inform her of the discovery he had made.