an Bo-peep--yes. The child is very grateful."

"She ought to be. I'd like to see the letter. Where is it?"

"I will go upstairs and fetch it," said Mrs. Martin, who knew well
that it was safe in her pocket all the time.

James Martin roused himself and gave her a studied look.

"Do so," he said. "Bring it back to me at once. If I have to support
that girl, and keep her at school, and pay for her clothing, I'll
allow her to have no secrets from me. You understand that, don't you,
Little-sing?"

"Yes. I will fetch the letter," said Mrs. Martin.

She left the room. Martin was fond of her, but he was no fool. He was
certain now that there was something in the letter which his wife did
not wish him to see, and his curiosity was instantly aroused. He was
determined to read poor Maggie's letter at any cost. He waited
impatiently, drumming his large, fat hand on the highly polished oak
table the while. Tildy came in with fresh coffee.

"Please, sir," she said, "cook wants to see you for a minute."

"I can't see her now. Tell her so," replied Martin.

"Which is no message for a woman of my class," said Horniman, entering
the room and showing a very heated face. "I wishes to give notice that
I leave your service this day month."

"You can go to-morrow," said Martin.

"As you please, sir; wages in full."

"You go to-morrow," said Martin; "and if you say another word you go
to-night. Leave the room."

Tildy breathed a little quickly, felt inclined to pat master on the
back, thought better of it, and left the room.

"Whatever is keeping Little-sing?" thought Martin to himself.

He was not going to worry about cook and her whims, but of
Little-sing and the letter. He grew a little more suspicious, and
consequently a little more angry.

"She has that letter in her pocket; I saw her put it there when I was
acting the part of the Troubadour," he said to himself. "She is
destroying it now; but she sha'n't--not before I get it."

He softly left the dining-room and crept with catlike steps upstairs.
He stopped outside his wife's bedroom. There was a light burning
there. He turned the handle of the door. It was locked.

"Open the door at once," he said; and Mrs. Martin flew to do so.

"Oh Bo-peep, you gave me a fright!"

"Where is that letter, Victoria?"

"It--it--I can't find it," she replied.

"What are those papers lying on the floor?"

Mrs. Martin gave a cry. Mr. Martin was too quick for her. He swept up
the