"Come, Peggy, let's go over to the other end of the piazza and walk up and down; it's much pleasanter there."
Warm-hearted Tilly's intentions were excellent; but her look of contempt, her meaning words, instead of cowing and controlling Agnes, only roused her to deeper anger, which resulted in an action that probably had not been premeditated even by her jealous and bitter spirit. Tilly will never forget that action. It was just as she was turning away with Peggy, when she saw that angry face barring her way, when she heard those ominous words, "Miss Smithson," and then—and then that outstretched hand thrusting forth to Peggy that fluttering, dreadful slip of paper!
CHAPTER V.
But another hand than Peggy's snatched at the fluttering paper. "What is it, what does it mean?" demanded Peggy, as a gusty breeze tore the paper from Tilly's trembling fingers.
"Yes, and what do you mean, Miss Tilly Morris, by snatching what doesn't belong to you?" cried Agnes, shrilly, as she started off to capture the flying paper, that, eluding her, blew hither and thither in a tantalizing way, and at last, falling at the feet of Will Wentworth, was picked up by him as he came out of the hall.
"It is mine, it is mine," shrieked Agnes; "keep it for me."
But Tilly, who was nearer to him, whispered agitatedly,—
"No, no, Will; don't give it to her,—she is—she means—"
"Mischief, I see," whispered back Will, with a swift, intelligent glance at Tilly.
"And if you wouldn't read it until—until I see you—oh, if you wouldn't!"