then she would not be one of those to point a finger at poor innocent
Peggy; for, whatever her father might have done, Peggy was innocent.

There was one person, however, that Tilly could speak to, could ask
counsel of, and that, of course, was her grandmother. Grandmother, she
was quite sure, would agree with her that the story was not to be
chattered about; and even if it were true that Mrs. Smith and Peggy
were those very Smithsons, neither was to blame, but only, as she had
heard her father say once of the family of a man who had proved a
defaulter, "innocent victims who were very much to be pitied."

But perhaps--perhaps grandmother would not believe that Mrs. Smith and
Peggy were "those Smithsons," and perhaps she would find some careful
way to investigate the matter and prove that they were not. With this
hope springing up over her fears, Tilly flew along the corridor to her
grandmother's room.

"What! what! what!" cried grandmother, as she listened to the story; "I
don't believe a word of Agnes's suspicions. There are millions of Smiths
in the world."

"But did you hear what I said about that last paragraph,--the girl of
fourteen or fifteen, and--and the letter,--the letter to South America?"
asked Tilly, tremulously.

"In what paper was it that Agnes found the statement?"

"It was some morning paper: I don't know which one,--I only remember
seeing the date."