I forgot all about its contents being perused, and was actually betrayed into shedding a few tears at the thought of my dear absent protectress.
"I wish I was back with you," I wrote.

"It's _miserable_ here.

The sweets you gave me have been stolen by that horrid old--" At this interesting juncture I was conscious of somebody standing behind me and looking over my shoulder.

It was Miss Henniker! "Give me that," she said.
I snatched the letter up and tore it into pieces.

I could stand a good deal, as I have said, but even a boy of twelve must draw the line somewhere.
Miss Henniker stood motionless as I destroyed my letter, and then said, in icy tones-- "Follow me, Batchelor." I rose meekly, and followed her--I cared not if it was to the gallows! She led me to her parlour, and ordered me to stand in the corner.