“Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie!”
“She pretends not to like it, but she would be very well pleased to be so angered with another letter,” said the shrewd maid, half aloud, as she walked away.
“Nay, would I were so angered with the same!” cried Julia, eagerly seizing some of the fragments. “O hateful hands to tear such loving words! I’ll kiss each little piece of paper to make amends. Look! here is written ‘Kind Julia!’ Unkind Julia! Be calm, good wind; do not blow any of the words away until I have found every letter.”
And with a loving touch she began carefully to collect the torn scraps of paper.
“Madam,” said Lucetta, coming back, “dinner is ready, and your father waits.”
“Well, let us go,” said Julia.
“Are these papers to lie here like tell-tales, madam?”
“If you care about them, you had better pick them up.”
“They shall not stay here, for fear of catching cold,” said Lucetta, with a mischievous little smile to herself.