"You look hot and excited, Elsie love," said Mr. Decker. "You ain't took
worse, are you?"

Mrs Decker's face had paled, but now flushed again. "No," she said;
"only a little pain here," as she again placed her hand upon her
corsage.

"Can I do any thing for you?" said Mr. Decker, rising with affectionate
concern.

"Run over to the hotel and get me some brandy, quick!"

Mr. Decker ran. Mrs Decker closed and bolted the door, and then, putting
her hand to her bosom, drew out the pain. It was folded foursquare, and
was, I grieve to say, in Mr. Oakhurst's handwriting.

She devoured it with burning eyes and cheeks until there came a step
upon the porch; then she hurriedly replaced it in her bosom, and
unbolted the door. Her husband entered. She raised the spirits to her
lips, and declared herself better.

"Are you going over there again to-night?" asked Mr. Decker
submissively.

"No," said Mrs. Decker, with her eyes fixed dreamily on the floor.

"I wouldn't if I was you," said Mr. Decker with a sigh of relief. After
a pause, he took a seat on the sofa, and, drawing his wife to his side,
said, "Do you know what I was thinking of when you came in, Elsie?"