Nancy backed away; her eyes were full of fear. Augusta’s eyes flashed with downright anger.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” she said, “whether you like me or not. Before long now our dealings with each other will be at an end. But I should like to keep in the good graces of the family till after prize-day. Nancy, I could make it worth your while. You have done a good many wrong things since you and I made each other’s acquaintance. You have been unhappy about it. Do you remember that paper you made me write, in which I promised to give you leave to tell your own story when we got back to town?”
“Of course,” said Nancy, “I remember all about it; it is the comfort of my life.”
“I thought so, and that is why I saved it for you.”
“You saved it for me! You! I have it myself in my desk in my room.”
“Once that little desk was left open,” said Augusta, “and a bird of the air came and informed somebody of the fact; and somebody, guided by that mischievous little bird, went to see, and found that the songster was right. Behold!”
As she spoke Augusta opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper, and held it high above Nancy’s head.
“Oh, how mean and dreadful you are!” said Nancy. “Give it back; give it back.”
“Certainly—to-morrow morning, after you have let me in.”
“Gussie, what am I to do? I cannot”——