The stout and angry lady made no appeal to
him, and Cecilia was a pretty girl, and moreover her telegram was for
a flying captain. The clerk wore a returned soldier's badge himself. He
fell back on Regulations.
"Can't be done, ma'am. The message is all in order."
"Let me see it."
"Much as my billet's worth, if I did," said the clerk. "Property of the
Postmaster-General now, ma'am. Couldn't even give it back to the young
lady."
"I'll report you!" Mrs. Rainham fumed.
"Do, ma'am. I'll get patted on the head for doin' me duty." The clerk's
grin widened. Cecilia wished him good afternoon gravely, and slipped out
of the office, pursued by her stepmother.
"What was in that telegram?"
"It was to my brother."
"What was in it?"
"It was to Bob, and that is guarantee that there was nothing wrong in
it," Cecilia said steadily. "It was on private business."
"You have no right to have any business that I do not know about."
Cecilia found her temper rising.
"My father may have the power to say that--I do not know," she said.
"But you have none, Mrs. Rainham."
"I'll let you see whether I have the right!" her stepmother blazed. "For
two pins, young lady, I'd lock you up."
Cecilia laughed outright.
"Ah, that's not done now," she said. "You really couldn't, Mrs.
Rainham--especially as I have done nothing wrong." She dropped her
voice--passers-by were looking with interest at the elder woman's
face.
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