Mamma didn't hesitate a minute. "Certainly it must be for you, my
dear," she said, and then she added, in a very cold, positive way, "For
whom else could it possibly be intended?" No one spoke; but just as
Peggy had put her finger under the flap to tear it open, Aunt Elizabeth
got up and crossed the room to where mamma and Peggy stood. She spoke
very softly and quietly, but she looked queer and excited.
"Wait one moment, my dear," she said to Peggy. "Very probably the
letter IS for you, but it is just possible that it may be for some one
else. Wouldn't it be safer--wiser--for ME to open it?"
Then Peggy cried out, "Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, how dreadful! How can you
say such a thing!" Mother had hesitated an instant when Aunt Elizabeth
spoke, but now she drew Peggy's head down to her dear, comfy shoulder,
and Peggy stayed right there and cried as hard as she could--with
little gasps and moans as if she felt dreadfully nervous. Then, for
once in my life, I saw my mother angry. She looked over Peggy's head at
Aunt Elizabeth, and her face was so dreadful it made me shiver.
"Elizabeth," she said, and she brought her teeth right down hard on the
word, "this is the climax of your idiocy. Have you the audacity to
claim here, before me, that this letter from my child's affianced
husband is addressed to you?"
Aunt Elizabeth looked very pale now, but when she answered she spoke as
quietly as before.
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