"Let me have your handkerchief, if it has your initials on it,"
I said; "for when he sees that fall into his room he will know
you are here. He will not think you are forward, coming to him
alone, for he will know you could never have thrown the
handkerchief, even if loaded with acorns, to such a height. It
will be your message to him."

At this, which I do pride myself was a suggestion worthy of
myself, all were delighted, and while I modestly tied twelve
acorns in the handkerchief on which were the initials "T. M. C.,"
all the others cheered. Even the woman from whom I had received
the three auburn-red curls cheered, and the baby that was half-
filled out of the patent nursing-bottle crowed with joy. But the
chauffeur honked his honker. Lemuel took the handkerchief full of
acorns in his hand and drew back his famous left arm, when
suddenly Theodora Mitchell Corwin--for that was the eloping young
lady's name--shrieked, and looking up we saw her lover at the
window. He gave an answering yell and disappeared, and Lemuel let
his left arm fall and handed me the handkerchief-ball.

In the excitement I dropped it into my pocket, and it was not
until I was on the car for Westcote that I discovered it, and
then, not wishing to be any later in getting home, I did not go
back to give it to Theodora Mitchell Corwin; in fact, I did not
know where she had eloped to. Nor could I give it to Madge or
Henry, for they had gone on their wedding journey as soon as they
saw Theodora and her lover safely eloped.

I had no right to give it to the poor woman with the baby, even