"I am not now. I never intended to deceive you, but you were
deceived. I did intend to deceive others, others who had no right
to know. I do not feel that I owe them any explanation. I do owe
you one, although I do not feel that I have done anything wrong.
Still, I cannot allow you to remain deceived."

"Well, what is it, dear?"

Eudora looked at him. "You remember that afternoon when you met
me with the baby-carriage?"

"Well, I should think so. My memory has not failed me in three
days."

"You thought I had a baby in that carriage."

"Of course I did."

"There wasn't a baby in the carriage."

"Well, what on earth was it, then? A cat?"

Eudora, if possible, looked prouder. "It was a package of soiled
linen from the Lancaster girls."

"Oh, good heavens, Eudora!"

"Yes," said Eudora, proudly. "I lost nearly everything when that
railroad failed. I had enough left to pay the taxes, and that
was all. After I had used a small sum in the savings-bank there