“There!” he cried penitently. “I’m a brute beast. I beg your pardon, my maid. I’m truly sorry—truly, I am.”
“Oh,” sobbed Ruby, “how could you be so unkind?”
“I’m sure I don’t know how I came for to forget myself like that,” he returned ruefully; “but I’ll never offend again, Miss Damory—never.”
“To expect me—to—to do that,” faltered Ruby, “when you’d never said a word of love to me—when you’d never even asked to walk with me.”
The postman’s brown face assumed a puzzled air; he drew a step nearer, and picked up the letter.
“But,” said he; then paused, and once more tendered the document to the schoolmistress.
“Oh, bother!” cried she irritably. “It’ll keep.”
Chris’s countenance lit up suddenly.
“Will it, indeed?” cried he. “That’s a tale—a very different tale. There, when I was comin’ along wi’ that letter, ’twas all I could do not to bury it or to drop it into a ditch. I mastered myself, ye know, but I were terr’ble tempted, and that was why,” he added with a sly glance, “I did look for some reward.”
“But why did you want to destroy my aunt’s letter?” asked Ruby.