Of the Lewis family the first who came home that special evening was Carrie. She walked straight into the little sitting-room, where Kitty Malone's letter lying on top of the blotter immediately attracted her attention. It need not be said that she instantly read it, and not only once but twice.

"Ha! ha! Elma, I have got you into my power at last," she said to herself. "So that accounts for the money. Now, what did you borrow it from that queer Irish girl for? But now that I know a thing or two. I may be able to draw on you to a considerable extent. Return it! not you—you are not likely to; but I think I'll be able to frighten you. I shall certainly do my utmost."

It will be seen from these remarks that Carrie was by no means an amiable girl. She ran up to her room, took off her hat, and surveyed herself in the pale blue dress which had been purchased with some of poor Kitty's money. She then returned to the sitting-room, and folding up the letter, deliberately put it into her pocket. As she was doing so Maggie came in to lay the tea.

"Oh lor! Miss Carrie," cried the maid-of-all-work as she spread the not-too-clean cloth upon the table, "whatever 'as become of that bit of writin' that was lyin' atop of the blotter here?"

"What bit of writing?" asked Carrie, turning calmly round and surveying her.

"Oh, a letter miss; I don't know what was in it, but it was a money transaction, as important as the Bank of England, and it was to be give to Miss Helma the very instant she come 'ome. Didn't you see it, miss, when you come in?"

"No, I didn't," said Carrie promptly. "I saw no letter of any kind. Here's the blotter, there is nothing on it. It may have got between the folds, however." She took up the thick pad of blotting-paper and shook it, but no letter dropped out.

"There," she said. "I have not the least doubt that Fido jumped on the table and took it up and ate it."

"Oh lor! miss, you don't think so?"

"I should not be surprised. Fido can never resist paper; he is always pulling it about and chewing it."

Maggie looked frantically under the table for even stray pieces of the letter, but she could not find any.

"If he had ate it," she said at last, fixing Carrie with a very determined stare—"if he had ate it he would have left some bits about. I don't believe it; I believe you 'as took it Miss Carrie. Oh, miss, for shame; and it was as important as the Bank of England—a money transaction, miss, what ought not to be trifled with. I can't read writin', though I can read books fair enough; but the young lady was awful put about."

"What young lady?" asked Carrie. "You had better tell me everything."

"Oh, it was that Irish young lady, Miss Malone. She come here with the most beautiful 'at on (no, it was wot they calls a talk), and the wiolets in it they might 'av growed, I could a'most smell 'em; and she come in distracted like, and writ the letter, and told me I was to give it to Miss Helma the very moment she returned, and that Miss Helma was to take her the money to-night—what money is more than I can tell, for I didn't think Miss Helma ever had any. And she said it was an important transaction. And I said, 'Is it like the Bank of England, miss?' and she said, 'Yes, to be sure.' Why, Miss Carrie, you have not gone and hid the letter, 'ave you? That would be real mean of you."

"Look here," said Carrie; "what did you say about those violets?"

"Why, she gave 'em to me, miss; she took 'em out of her cap, and she give 'em to me, and I was to give the letter to Miss Helma. It was a fair and honest bargain, and I must keep my part of it miss."

"Would you like some roses to put with the violets?" said Carrie, making a careful calculation.

"Roses, miss? That would be prime, and very seasonable, wouldn't they miss?"

"Yes, violets and roses look very pretty together, and I'll pin them into your hat and furbish it up. And, look here, Maggie, you can go out with your young man on Sunday. I'll manage it—I can. I will stay at home."

"Oh, Miss Carrie, you don't mean it?"

"Yes, I do. I'll manage it; but I'll do it only on a condition."

"What is that miss?"

"That you don't every ask me another question with regard to that letter, and that you never, never on any account breathe a word of it to Elma. If you do, why——"

"Oh, Miss, it don't seem fair."

Poor honest Maggie walked to the window and struggled for a few minutes with her temptation. The thought, however, of roses to add to the violets, the thought also of Joe, whom she dearly loved, to walk with her on the following Sunday, proved far too seductive. She struggled with her enemy for a few minutes, and then she fell once and for all.

"I'll have the roses, Miss Carrie. I can't resist them and the thought of Joe on Sunday. Joe is so passionate loving, miss, I can't resist 'im." And then Maggie rushed out of the room.

She flew to her attic, threw herself by the side of her bed and burst into sobs.

"But I oughtn't to 'ave done it," she said several times—"I oughtn't to 'ave done it. If it worn't for the roses and for Joe I'd 'ave stood up to her; but as it is I was too tempted. But all the same I oughtn't to have done it—no, I oughtn't to 'ave done it!"

Meanwhile Carrie up in her bedroom was thinking hard. Here indeed was a revelation! So El............