“I never said I did,” sobbed Peggy. “I never said so, not one little bit. But oh, Maria! Moolymaria! You can't think how dreadful it is to be a girl, an engaged girl, and not know what to do!”
Then and there an active idea—one with bones in it—raced and overtook me, and I shot out: “Where is that letter?”
“Mother has it,” replied Peggy.
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Has Aunt Elizabeth opened it?”
“Oh no!”
“Did Charlies Edward take it with him?”
“I don't think he did. I will go ask mother.”
“Go ask mother for that letter,” I commanded, “and bring it to me.”