Vicky opened her eyes very wide at this: "Does he? Oh, I do think thats so wonderful of him! Poor sweet, I thought he was practically senile!"
"Don't be so disgusting!" said Mary sharply.
"Oh, I'm not! Darling Mummy, how did you find it out? Doesn't it give you an absolutely new angle on Wally?"
By this time Mary had decided to suppress her scruples, and had read the fatal letter. It was signed by one Percy Baker, who appeared to be the brother of the girl in question. Mary had no experience of such letters, but being a young woman of intelligence she was easily able to recognise it as an attempt at blackmail. The writer used illiterate but forceful threats, and ended by promising himself a visit to Palings if he did not hear from Wally immediately. Long association with Wally led her to assume that when he thrust the letter carelessly into his pocket he also thrust the memory of it from his mind. She looked up. "This was written at the beginning of the week. Today's Saturday. He'll turn up."
Vicky took the letter out of her hand. "Angel-Mary, I do think you're dog-in-the-mangerish. Oh, I never knew anyone was actually called Gladys!"
"It's too much!" Ermyntrude said, kneading her hands together in her lap. "It's too much! No one ever called me narrow-minded, but to get a local girl into trouble is more than I'll stand for. If it had been in London I wouldn't have said a word - well, what I mean is, anyone knows what men are, and what the eye doesn't see the heart won't grieve over - but to have Wally's by-blows absolutely under one's nose - well, I shall never be able to hold up my head again, and that's the truth!"
"Oh, darling, I do think you're so modern and marvellous!" said Vicky. "If you were old-fashioned and feudal you wouldn't mind a bit, because it was awfully the done thing for the squire to have lots and lots of bastards."
"I won't have you use that nasty, coarse word!" said Ermyntrude. "The idea! Besides, Wally isn't the squire and never was."
"It may not be true," said Mary. She gave the letter back to Ermyntrude. "I don't mean that Uncle hasn't had an affair with this Gladys person: I suppose he must have had; but we don't know that he's the one who got her into trouble. If you think it over, it looks as though the girl must be a pretty bad lot. You can't imagine a girl falling in love with Uncle, can you? Obviously, she thinks he's a rich man, and this brother of hers is going to try and get money out of him. Honestly, Aunt Ermy, I wouldn't let it upset you too much. It's no use blinking facts, after all, and you've known for ages that Uncle is simply hopeless about flirting with pretty girls."
"It's never been as bad as this," Ermyntrude said. "I've borne all the rest, but I won't bear this. It's an insult, that's what you don't seem to see! Other people don't think I'm old and dull, and lost my looks, but not my own husband! Oh no! He has to get off with a girl from Fritton! On top of everything!"