masquerade," cries the doctor. Booth answered he believed she would be
very well when she waked. "I fancy," said he, "her gentle spirits were
a little too much fluttered last night; that is all."

"I hope, then," said the doctor, "you will never more insist on her
going to such places, but know your own happiness in having a wife
that hath the discretion to avoid those places; which, though perhaps
they may not be as some represent them, such brothels of vice and
debauchery as would impeach the character of every virtuous woman who
was seen at them, are certainly, however, scenes of riot, disorder,
and intemperance, very improper to be frequented by a chaste and sober
Christian matron."

Booth declared that he was very sensible of his error, and that, so
far from soliciting his wife to go to another masquerade, he did not
intend ever to go thither any more himself.

The doctor highly approved the resolution; and then Booth said, "And I
thank you, my dear friend, as well as my wife's discretion, that she
was not at the masquerade last night." He then related to the doctor
the discovery of the plot; and the good man was greatly pleased with
the success of the stratagem, and that Booth took it in such good
part.

"But, sir," says Booth, "I had a letter given me by a noble colonel
there, which is written in a hand so very like yours, that I could
almost swear to it. Nor is the stile, as far as I can guess, unlike
your own. Here it is, sir. Do you own the letter, doctor, or do you
not?"