She went hack to the room where lay the letter. Her aunt was there still. Molly was glad of it: the easiest way of letting her know, for she would not have done it without, was to let her see her do what she did! She went straight to the chimney, reached up, and took the letter.
“Leave that alone!” cried Miss Hancock. “I know what you are after! You want to give it to my brother, and be the first to know what is in it! Put it back this moment!”
Molly stood with the letter in her hand.
“You are mistaken, auntie,” she said. “I am going to open it.”
“You shall do nothing of the sort—not if I live!” returned Aunt Ann, and flew to take the letter from her. But Molly was prepared for the attack, and was on the other side of the door before she could pounce.
She sped to her room, locked the door, and read the letter, then went instantly to her bonnet and cloak. There was time to catch the last train! She inclosed the letter, addressed it to her father, and wrote inside the envelope that she had opened it against the wish of her aunt, and was gone to nurse Walter. Then taking money from her drawer, she returned to Aunt Ann.
“It is about Walter. He is very ill,” she said. “I have inclosed the letter, and told him it was I that opened it.”
“Why such a fuss?” cried Aunt Ann. “You can tell him your impertinence just as well as write it! Oh, you’ve got your bonnet on!—going to run away in a fright at what you’ve done! Well, perhaps you’d better!”
“I am going to Walter.”
“Where?”