“What was it? I demand to know!” cried Mrs. Rainham. She turned to the clerk, who stood open-mouthed, holding the telegram in his hand. “Show me that telegram. I am this young lady's guardian.”
The clerk grinned broadly. The stout and angry lady made no appeal to him, and Cecilia was a pretty girl, and moreover her telegram was for a flying captain. The clerk wore a returned soldier's badge himself. He fell back on Regulations.
“Can't be done, ma'am. The message is all in order.”
“Let me see it.”
“Much as my billet's worth, if I did,” said the clerk. “Property of the Postmaster-General now, ma'am. Couldn't even give it back to the young lady.”
“I'll report you!” Mrs. Rainham fumed.
“Do, ma'am. I'll get patted on the head for doin' me duty.” The clerk's grin widened. Cecilia wished him good afternoon gravely, and slipped out of the office, pursued by her stepmother.
“What was in that telegram?”
“It was to my brother.”
“What was in it?”