“What are those papers lying on the floor?”
Mrs. Martin gave a cry. Mr. Martin was too quick for her. He swept up the pieces of torn letter, collected them in his great hand, and, taking Mrs. Martin with the other hand, returned with her to the dining-room.
“Now, you sit there, Little-sing,” he said, “while I piece the letter together. There is something in it that you want hidden from me; but you’ve quite mistook your man. There are to be no secrets between you and me. I’m not the least bit angry with you, but I am not going to have that girl ruling you. You’re frightened of that girl. Now, let’s see what she has to say.”
Poor Mrs. Martin trembled from head to foot. Suddenly she went on her knees, clasped her hands round Bo-peep’s arm, and looked into his face. “She was naughty. She was a silly child. Oh, forgive her! I ought to have destroyed the letter. I ought not to have kept it until you came back. Please—please, don’t read it!”
“Nonsense, Little-sing,” he replied, restored once more to the height of good humor. “You have roused my curiosity; nothing will induce me not to see every word of the letter now.”
It took Martin some time to piece together poor Maggie’s letter; but at last the greater part of its meaning was made plain to him. Mrs. Martin sat, white as death, looking at her lord and master. What was going to happen? What awful thing lay ahead of her? She felt crushed beyond words. Once again she struggled to get on her knees to implore him, to entreat; but Martin put out his great hand and kept her forcibly in her seat.
When he had quite taken in the meaning of the letter he made no comment whatever, but carefully deposited the torn fragments in his pocket-book. Then he said quietly, “I don’t blame you, Little-sing, not one bit. But we’ve got to punish this girl. To-morrow I shall be busy in town. The day after will be Friday, and I shall be busy then; but on Saturday we’ll take a half-holiday and go to visit Miss Margaret Howland at 144 Aylmer House—you and me together, Little-sing—the grocer and his wife together. Not a word, my love; not a word.”