Suddenly the hired girl, a bright mulatto, put her head into the room, and started at seeing Pansy lying on the floor in tears.
“Lor’, Miss Pansy, what’s de matter? You sick?” she exclaimed.
“No—yes. What do you want, Sue?” fretfully.
“Mr. Wylde tole me to tole you to come downsta’rs. He wants to tell you sumfin.”
Pansy’s blue eyes flashed through their tears.
“Tell him I won’t come, that I don’t want to see him!” she replied spiritedly.
Norman Wylde sighed when he received the message, and turned away without a word. Going to his room, he dashed off a hasty letter to Pansy, explaining everything, and begged her consent to become his wife. Then he went down, and, finding Sue alone in the kitchen, gave her the letter to take to Pansy, liberally rewarding her for the service.
Just outside Pansy’s door she came upon Juliette Ives, who said carelessly:
“Give me that letter. I’ll hand it to Pansy.”
She held up her hand, with a silver piece shining in its palm. Sue snapped at the bait, and immediately delivered up the precious letter, which Miss Ives hid in her pocket, then ran away to her own room.