“Well, come up to my room in ten minutes and I’ll have the letter ready.”
Augusta seated herself at her little table, and wrote quickly:
“My Dear Flo,—The fat is in the fire, and we are forbidden all intercourse with you. Mean, horrid, disgraceful, unbearable, I call it! Don’t think for a single moment that I submit. I love you better than any girl I have ever met. I love Constance, too. But, oh! I must hurry, for I want you to get this letter by the middle of the day. Don’t come near the place at present, and don’t walk in the woods, for if I met you I might be discovered, and I don’t want anything to be known until after the Cinderella. Of course I am going, but how I do not know at the present moment. I can’t sleep at your house; that is certain. You will hear from me nearer the time. And now, good-bye.—Your affectionate friend,
“Augusta Duncan.”
Augusta had scarcely finished her letter before Nancy’s tap was heard at her door.
“Come in,” called out the young lady; and Nancy entered.
“Is the letter ready, Augusta?” she asked.
“Yes; I am directing it. Have you got a stamp about you?”
“Yes.”
“Lend me one, like a good child.”
Nancy took out her purse, produced a stamp, and gave it to Augusta.