In a few seconds Matilda and Susy entered the room, the arm of the elder affectionately wound round the waist of the younger sister.
“Are you not well, Susy?” asked Mr. Foxville kindly.
“Perfectly!” replied Susy, giving her papa his morning kiss.
“There is a letter for you,” said the enviable father.
“Thank you,” answered Susy, and she slipt the letter unopened into a little dress pocket, coloring and tremulous as she did so.
“I could not wait like you for the news, Susy,” said her mother frankly, as she watched her daughter closely.
“I would not be so rude as to read letters before others,” answered Susy.
“Not at all rude!” observed Mrs. Foxville, with one of her grand airs. “There is nobody here but the family: that makes all the difference. I would wish to make you sensible of that, my child. Etiquette should not be pushed too far when we are en famille.”
The last words were delivered with a deal of self-importance, as if she had just solved a new problem of politeness and was vain of her discovery.
“Of course!” cried Matilda. “Do not hesitate, Susy. I should not. I could not take matters so coolly. The letter may be from some dear, dear friend!”