"For Millicent, with love and good wishes for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, from her cousin, Appolina Briggs."
"I notice that the check which I sent with the slippers was carefully removed. That did not go to the fair," added Miss Briggs, grimly, as she again seated herself.
Millicent burst into tears. All this time Peggy's mind was busy. A terrible temptation stared her in the face. No one seemed to suspect her of having written the lines about her cousin; if she did not confess it, who would know it?
After all, it would do no further harm to Millicent's prospects if Cousin Appolina continued to think that she wrote them, for she would not be chosen to go to England now under any circumstances on account of the slippers.
Should Peggy remain quiet and let it pass? Not a creature but herself knew what she had done, and it would be easy enough to continue to hide it.
"Cousin Appolina," said Millicent, finding her voice at last, "I am so sorry! You see, I hadn't worn the slippers, for the ones you gave me before are still as good as new, and I had nothing to send to the fair, for I don't do any fancy-work, and I thought—perhaps—you wouldn't mind. I didn't notice the paper."
"Evidently not; but what if the shoes had fallen into other hands than mine? What if— But all this amounts to nothing compared with your positive outrageousness in writing those lines about me and sending them to be sold."
"Cousin Appolina, what do you mean?" cried Millicent. "I didn't mean you."
"Mean me?" repeated Miss Briggs, in wrath. "To whom, then, were you referring? Is there another Miss Appolina B.?"
"I can't imagine what you are talking about, honestly, Cousin Appolina, but I really did not mean that you were the pearl in the oyster-shell. I wrote it about some one else."