"The smell of those onions," she
whispered to her husband, "blows right in here." She then altered her
tone a trifle.
"One of 'em, Mrs. Bingham, had the Portsmouth postmark on it; but this
is in the strictest confidence, and I should never dream of letting it
out to anybody but you, but I don't mind you, because I know you won't
repeat it, and if my husband was to hear me he'd be in a fearful rage,
for there was a dreadful row when I told Lady Caroline at Thaxton Manor
about the letters Miss Margaret was getting, and it was found out that
it was me as told her, and some gentleman in London wrote to the
Postmaster-General about it."
"You may depend upon me, Mrs. Carter." Mrs. Bingham considered she had
completely satisfied her conscience when she imposed an oath of secrecy
on Mrs. Harrop, who was also self-exonerated when she had imposed a
similar oath on Mrs. Cobb.
A fortnight after the visit to the post-office there was a tea-party.
Mrs. Harrop, Mrs. Cobb, Mrs. Sweeting, the grocer's wife, and Miss
Tarrant, an elderly lady, living on a small annuity, but most genteel,
were invited to Mrs.
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