'Give it to me!' he repeated more quietly than before. She looked as if
she would cry; but still she kept the note tight held behind her back.

'He said as I was to give it into her own hands; and I promised as I
would, faithful.'

'Cook, go and find Miss Molly. Tell her to come here at once.'

He fixed Bethia with his eyes. It was of no use trying to escape: she
might have thrown it into the fire, but she had not presence of mind
enough. She stood immovable, only her eyes looked any way rather than
encounter her master's steady gaze. 'Molly, my dear!'

'Papa! I did not know you were at home,' said innocent, wondering
Molly.

'Bethia, keep your word. Here is Miss Molly; give her the note.'

'Indeed, Miss, I couldn't help it!'

Molly took the note, but before she could open it, her father said,--
'That's all, my dear; you need not read it. Give it to me. Tell those
who sent you, Bethia, that all letters for Miss Molly must pass through
my hands. Now be off with you, goosey, and go back to where you came
from.'

'Papa, I shall make you tell me who my correspondent is.'

'We'll see about that, by-and-by.'