Well, you can easily find out. I'll
write to you to-morrow, and again the next day--just ordinary letters,
with nothing particular in them except an arrangement to meet next
Saturday. If you don't get them you'll know she's getting at the mail
first."
"What shall I do, then?"
"Drop me a line--or, better still, wire to me," said Bob. "Just say,
'Address elsewhere.' Then I'll write to you at Mr. M'Clinton's; the old
solicitor chap in Lincoln's Inn; and you'll have to go there and get the
letters. You know his address, don't you?"
"Oh, yes. I have to write to him every quarter when he sends me my
allowance. You'll explain to him, then, Bob, or he'll simply redirect
your letters here."
"Oh, of course. I want to go and see the old chap, anyhow, to talk over
Aunt Margaret's affairs. I might as well know a little more about them.
Tommy, the she-dragon can't actually lock you up, can she?"
"No--it couldn't be done," said Cecilia. "Modern houses aren't built
with dungeons and things. Moreover, if she tried to keep me in the house
she would have to take the children out for their walks herself; and she
simply hates walking."
"Then you can certainly post to me, and get my letters, and I'll be up
again as soon as ever I can. Buck up, old girl--it can't be for long
now."
They turned in at the Rainhams' front gate, and Cecilia glanced up
apprehensively.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63