Em carried the note to Mr.Perkins.He took it, held it up, and scrutinized the address.
"Did you write this to Cecily, Emmeline ?" he asked.
"No, sir." "Who wrote it then ?" Em said quite shamelessly that she didn't know--it had just been passed over from the next row.
"And I suppose you have no idea where it came from ?" said Mr.Perkins, with his frightful, sardonic grin.

"Well, perhaps Cecily can tell us.
You may take your seat, Emmeline, and you will remain at the foot of your spelling class for a week as punishment for passing the note.
Cecily, come here." Indignant Em sat down and poor, innocent Cecily was haled forth to public ignominy.

She went with a crimson face.
"Cecily," said her tormentor, "do you know who wrote this letter to you ?" Cecily, like a certain renowned personage, could not tell a lie.
"I--I think so, sir," she murmured faintly.
"Who was it ?" "I can't tell you that," stammered Cecily, on the verge of tears.
"Ah!" said Mr.Perkins politely.

"Well, I suppose I could easily find out by opening it.

But it is very impolite to open other people's letters.