“I thank you, sir, but it grows late, and we must hurry back to my Lady Lowestoft’s. You’re ready, my Peter?”
Letty, clinging to her father’s arm, watched the chaise roll away down the street, with the neat figure of Mr Merriot riding behind it. She heaved a deep sigh, and whispered urgently: “Papa, papa, I must speak with you alone! Send Aunt to bed!”
Miss Grayson the elder was in a severe bustle. “Letitia, you pass all bounds! Come within doors, for heaven’s sake, brother. You will explain yourself, Letitia, if you please. How came you to be lost in the gardens, and where, pray, have you been?”
They stood now in the lit hall of the house. Letty shook her head wearily, and cast an appealing, urgent glance up into her father’s face. His mood was of annoyance at this fresh escapade, but he read such lingering horror in his daughter’s brown eyes that he silenced his sister. “I will have a talk with Letitia myself, sister, with your leave. Come into the library, child: you will be the better for a glass of Madeira.”
Miss Grayson was affronted. “As Letitia’s chaperon, brother, I feel I have the right to know more of this!” she declared.
“So you shall, Cordelia, but later. Do not let us forget that I am Letty’s father.”
Hearing that note in her brother’s voice Miss Grayson thought it as well to retire. She sniffed loudly, and saying that she hoped Sir Humphrey would read his erring child a sharp lesson, flounced off up the stairs to her own apartment.
Sir Humphrey took Letty into the library, where a fire burned still. With austere kindliness he forbade all attempt at explanation until she should have swallowed some wine. This was soon brought by a curious servant. Letty was obliged to drink, and her father had the satisfaction of seeing some of the colour return to her pale cheeks.
She put back her cloak, and with quivering fingers pulled the letter from the bosom of her gown. “Take it, Papa! Take it, and burn it!” she said in a voice of strong agitation.
Surprised he received the paper, and unfolded it. An exclamation broke from him; he stood with the letter in his hand, staring down at his daughter. “How came you by this?”