"Come hither, boy," he said; and as the youth, with a slow and faltering step, advanced towards him, his lord added, "you have read this letter?"
"A part, my lord," replied Frill, with his knees shaking. "Tony thought I had better read it, to find out whom it belonged to."
"You do not pretend to say," continued Algernon Grey, "that when you had read it, you believed it belonged to me."
The boy hesitated and turned crimson, and then murmured, "Tony thought it ought to belong to you, whoever it was sent to."
"Call him hither, and return yourself," said Algernon Grey; but the boy had not far to go, for the old servant was still waiting without. When he appeared, however, his air and manner was different from that of the page; he seemed very grave indeed, but calm and firm, and while the boy slunk behind him, he advanced boldly to the table by which his lord sat.
"How is it," said Algernon Grey, "that you, an old and faithful servant of my house, I might say almost a friend, have induced this boy to deceive me regarding a letter which was never intended for my eye?"
"Because, my lord," replied Tony, "there were things in it never intended for your eye indeed, but which it is right and necessary you should see; and there are a great many things, never intended for your ear, that it is only just you should hear."
"Indeed!" said Algernon Grey. "In this, however, you have done wrong, though I doubt not that your intention was good. You should never attempt to deceive. You should have spoken to me boldly and straightforwardly, and I might have thanked you then for information which now is burdensome to me."
"Why, you forbade me, my lord, ever to say anything to you against your cousin, Sir William, again," replied the servant; "you thought I was prejudiced against him, that I had some hatred towards him, and so, when a means came of opening your eyes, I determined I would take it at any risk; otherwise I could have told you a great deal about this long ago."
"From what source came your information?" asked Algernon Grey.