action--I
concluded at once that Peggy had her reservations and was keeping
something from me. On pretence of wanting a doughnut I got her into the
pantry and shut both doors.

"Peggy," I said, "what has Charles Edward gone to New York for? Do you
know?"

Peggy wound a big doughnut spinning around her engagement finger and
made no reply.

"If it has anything to do with you and Harry Goward, you must tell me,
Peggy. You must tell me instantly."

Peggy put a doughnut on her wedding finger and observed, with pained
perplexity, that it would not spin, but stuck.

"What is Charles Edward up to?" I persisted.

The opening rose-bud of Peggy's face took on a furtive expression, like
that of certain pansies, or some orchids I have seen. "He is going to
take me to Europe," she admitted, removing both her doughnut rings.

"YOU! To EUROPE!"

"He and Lorraine. When this is blown by. They want to get me away."

"Away from what? Away from Harry Goward?"

"Oh, I suppose so," blubbered Peggy.

She now began, in a perfectly normal manner, to mop her eyes with her
handkerchief.

"Do you want to be got away from Harry Goward?" I demanded.

"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."

Peggy gave me one mutinous look, but the instinct of a younger sister
was in her and she obeyed me. She brought the letter. I have this
precious document in my pocket. I asked her if she would trust me to
find out to whom that letter was addressed. After some hesitation she
replied that she would. I reminded her that she was the only person in
the world who could give me this authority--which pleased her. I told
her that I should accept it as a solemn trust, and do my highest and
best with it for her sake.

"Peggy," I said, "this is not altogether a pleasant job for me, but
you are my little sister and I will take care of you. Kiss your old
Meddlymaria, Peggy." She took down her sopping handkerchief and lifte