ntonation. Aunt Amy seized the letter and hid it in her dress. "She
shan't see it," she whispered childishly.

"Is that the mail?" repeated Mrs. Coombe, coming up the walk.

"No, there is no mail," said Esther, "No one has been to the post
office. Perhaps Jane had better run down now."

"But you had a letter," suspiciously. "I'm sure I saw it. Where is it?"

"Don't be absurd, mother. I have no letter. Nor would I think it
necessary to show it to you if I had. I am not a child."

"You are a child. And let me tell you, a clandestine correspondence is
something which I shall not tolerate. Let me see the letter."

Esther was feeling too happy to be cross. Besides it was rather funny to
be accused of clandestine correspondence.

"I think I'll go and help Jane with the pup," she said cheerfully. "Too
bad you didn't come in sooner, mother. Dr. Callandar was here."

"Then you do refuse to show me the letter?"

"If I had one I should certainly refuse to show it. Why do you let
yourself get so excited, mother? You never used to act like this. It
must be nerves. Every one notices how changed you are." She paused,
arrested by the frightened look which replaced the futile anger on her
step-mother's face.

"I'm not different. Who says I am different? It is you who are trying
to make a fuss. I'm sure I do not care about your letter. Why should I?
Your father always seemed to think you needed no advice from any one.
Only don't imagine that I am blind. I _saw_ you with a letter."

Having triumphantly secured the last word, she turned to busy herself
with the tea-tray, and Esther, knowing the uselessness of argument, went
on toward the house. Aunt Amy attempted to follow but was stopped
by Mary.

"Amy, what did that doctor want here?"

"He came to see me."

Mary laughed. "Likely!" she said. "This tea is quite cold. Was it he who
left the letter for Esther?"

"Esther didn't have a letter. I had one."

Again the incredulous laugh, and the dull red mounted into Aunt Amy's
faded cheeks. She clutched the treasured letter tightly under her dress.
This mocking woman should never see it! But as she turned again to leave
her, another consideration appealed to her unstable mind. Mary suspected
Esther--and nothing would annoy her more than to find herself mistaken.
On impulse Aunt Amy flung the letter upon the tea-tray.

"There it is. Read it, if you like. It has nothing to do with Esther. Or
any one else. I found it in one of y