Mary turned in herr chair, recognising in Ermyntrude's voice a note of shock mingled with wrath. "What is it?"
"Read it!" said Ermyntrude dramatically. "It's too much!" She held the letter out with a shaking hand, but as Mary took it she seemed to recollect herself, and said: "Oh dear, whatever am I thinking about? Give it back, dearie: it isn't fit for you to read, and you his ward!"
Mary made no attempt to read the letter, but said in her sensible way: "You know, Aunt Ermy, you really ought not to have looked at it. I don't know what it's about, but hadn't, you better pretend you haven't seen it?"
The ready colour rose to Ermyntrude's cheeks. "Pretend I haven't seen it? Pretend I don't know my husband's got some wretched little tart into trouble? I'll thank you to realise I'm made of flesh and blood, and not stone, my girl!"
Mary was accustomed to Wally's gyrations, but this piece of information startled her. "You must be mistaken!"
"Oh, I must, must I? Well, if that's what you think, just you read that letter!"
"But, honestly, Aunt Ermy, one doesn't read other people's letters!"
"No, all one does is to be beholden to one's wife for every penny one has, and then go round putting girls in the family way!" said Ermyntrude bitterly.
Vicky entered the room in. time to hear this dictum, and inquired with interest: "Who does?"
"Your precious stepfather!" snapped Ermyntrude.