nd then we laughed together.

"You notice the letter was marked personal?" Obermuller said. He was
still standing beside me.

"No--was it?" I got up, too, and began to pull on my gloves; but my
fingers shook so I couldn't do a thing with them.

"Oh, yes, it was. That's why I showed it to you. Nance--Nance, don't
you see that there's only one way out of this? There's only one woman
in the world that would do this for me and that I could take it from."

I clasped my hands helplessly. Oh, what could I do, Maggie, with him
there and his arms ready for me!

"I--I should think you'd be afraid," I whispered. I didn't dare look
at him.

He caught me to him then.

"Afraid you wouldn't care for an old fellow like me?" he laughed.
"Yes, that's the only fear I had. But I lost it, Nancy, Nancy
Obermuller, when you flung that paper down before me. That's quite two
hours ago--haven't I waited long enough?"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Oh, Mag--Mag, how can I tell him? Do you think he knows that I am
going to be good--good! that I can be as good for a good man who loves
me, as I was bad for a bad man I loved!

XVII.

PHILADELPHIA, January 27.

Maggie, dear:

I'm writing to you just before dinner while I wait for Fred. He's down
at the box-office looking up advance sales. I tell you, Maggie
Monahan, we're strictly in it--we Obermullers. That Broadway hit of
mine has preceded me here, and we've got the town, I suspect, in
advance.

But I'm not writing to tell you this. I've got something more
interesting to tell you, my dear old Cruelty chum.

I want you to pretend to yourself that you see me, Mag, as I came out
of the big Chestnut Street store this afternoon, my arms full of
bundles. I must have on that long coat to my heels, of dark, warm red,
silk-lined, with the long, incurving back sweep and high chinchilla
collar, that Fred ordered made for me the very day we were married. I
must be wearing that jolly little, red-cloth toque caught up on the
side with some of the fur.

Oh, yes, I knew I was more than a year behind the times when I got
them, but a successful actress wears what she pleases, and the rest of
the world wears what pleases her, too. Besides, fashions don't mean so
much to you when your husband tells you how becoming--but this has
nothing to do with the Bishop.

Yes, the Bishop, Mag!

I had just said, "Nance Olden--" To myself I still speak to me as Nancy
Olden; it's g