“Oh, I don’t know, but teachers always seem to mind every little thing one does,” replied Toinette, sulkily.
“It seems to me that this would be entirely too ‘little a thing’ for a teacher or anyone else to mind. Don’t you think so yourself?”
“Well, of course, I didn’t think you would mind simply because I wrote to papa, but because I posted the letter without first letting you read it,” answered Toinette.
Now, indeed, was Miss Preston learning something new, and not even a child could have questioned that her surprise was genuine when she exclaimed:
“Read your letters, my dear little girl! What are you saying?” and a slight flush overspread her refined face.
It was now Toinette’s turn to be surprised as she asked:
“Isn’t that the rule here, Miss Preston?”
“Is it anywhere? I can hardly believe it. One’s correspondence is a very sacred thing, Toinette, and I would as soon be guilty of listening at another person’s door as of reading a letter intended for another’s eyes. Oh, my little girl, what mischief has been at work here?”
While Miss Preston was speaking Toinette had risen to her feet, her eyes shining like stars, and her color coming and going rapidly. Now, taking both Miss Preston’s hands in her own, she said, in a voice which quivered with excitement:
“Is that truly true, Miss Preston? Aren’t the girls’ letters ever read? Haven’t mine been? Do you trust me like that?”