It's already past two o'clock and I haven't even hung out the clothes yet. I'm just getting started when Grace appears, excitedly waving an envelope. “Your personal mail-delivery service, Mademoiselle,” she says, and executes a wobbly curtsy on the grass. I wipe my damp hands on my apron, and ask, “Who's it from, Grace?” “It is a federal offense to open other people's mail,” she replies primly. “For goodness' sake, Millie, hurry up and open it.” She shifts from one foot to the other. “I can't stay long.” “Is this some kind of joke?” Grace is acting very suspiciously. She looks awfully pleased with herself. Who could be writing to me? “Of course not, Millie. You are enough to drive anyone to distraction. Are you going to open it or not?” “I need to go inside and get a letter opener.” Grace follows me into the kitchen. “Why can't you just tear it open, like other people?” I slide the knife under the seal and pull out a sheet of fancy notepaper. “It's from Miss Tracy: Eleanor Tracy requests the pleasure of your company at tea on Sunday, August 25, from 3:00 P.M.
What do You think about When The Bough Breaks (2007)?
