ffect of her interest in Patty's welfare.
She might have known! Well, this very morning she would ascertain from
Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's lips where she had secured her information.
She would do more than that; she would make her prove every word of
it.

So Patty marched toward the Haldene place, marched, because that verb
suggests something warlike, something belligerent. And there was war
a-plenty in Patty's heart. Each step she took sang out a sharp
"Meddler-gossip! meddler-gossip!" A delivery horse went past, drumming
an irritating "Busybody! busybody! busybody!" What had she or hers
ever done to Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene that she should stoop to so base a
means of attack? An anonymous letter! War raged in Patty's heart; but
there was something warmer and clearer coursing through her
veins--hope!

She went on. Not a particle of her courage deserted her as she mounted
the steps and pushed the bell. When Patty was genuinely roused in
anger she was afraid of little or nothing, animate or inanimate. A
maid answered the bell. As she recognized the caller she swung back
the door and nodded.

"Is Mrs. Haldene at home?" Patty inquired.

"Yes, Miss Patty."

The maid led Patty into the library, where Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene was
busily engaged in making up an invitation list.

"Why, Patty, I am glad to see you," she cried, dropping her pen and
rising. But her curiosity rose at the same time. Patty here?

"You left your shopping-bag when you called yesterday," said Patty,
ominously calm. "I have brought it to you."

"It was very careless of me to forget it."

"Yes, it was," Patty assented, her heart beginning to throb violently.

"Thank you. And I have been looking for it high and low."

Patty passed the bag to her enemy. How to begin, how to begin!

"Mrs. Haldene!" Patty's voice was high-pitched and quavering.

"Why, Patty!"

"Why did you write this base letter to me!"--exhibiting the letter
resolutely. "Do not deny that you wrote it. It smells of
heliotrope--your favorite perfume."

"Patty Bennington, are you mad?" cried Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene. "What
letter? What do you mean?" She knew very well, but she had not
practised the control of her nerves all these years for nothing. "A
letter? I demand to see it."

But Patty reconsidered and withdrew her hand, concluding that Mrs.
Franklyn-Haldene could destroy the letter as easily as she had written
it; more easily, had Patty but known it.

"I prefer to read it to yo