* * * * *

"Maggie, do you know what time it is?" a suppressed voice issued an hour
later from that part of the house supposed to be dedicated to sleep. "Are
you going to sit up till morning?"

"I am looking for my letter," came the answer, in a tragic whisper.

"What letter?"

"My letter to Willy, that you wouldn't let me read to you last night."

"You don't want to read it to me now, do you?"

There was no reply. A careful step kept moving about the inner rooms,
newspapers rustled, and small objects were lifted and set down.

"Maggie, do come to bed! You can't mail your letter to-night."

"I don't want to mail it. I want to burn it. I will not have it on my
conscience a moment longer"--

"I wish you'd have me on your conscience! It's after one o'clock." The
voices were close together now, only an open door between the speakers.

"Won't you put something on and come out here, Henry? There is a light in
Ito's house. I suppose you wouldn't let me go out and ask him?"

"I suppose not!"