at? Dark trous--No. Dark tresses? Not that,
either. Dark--trousseau? Hardly that. She's just married, but she didn't
have her whole trousseau on. Dark--? Search me, I don't know. 'Mrs. B.'
Mrs. Brown, 'l. d.' Long dress? Lawn dress? No, lavender dress, I
remember. This cipher is worse than the one in the 'Gold Bug.' I wish I
had written it out."

Some of the things he could interpret and some he could not, but he
could remember none when he took his eyes away from the card.

He found his wife waiting for him in the breakfast room, dressed in a
blue tea-gown, and she looked so charming that he could not refrain from
taking two kisses from her red lips. She put her arms around his neck
and took one of them back again.

"How are you this morning? Did you have a good time at the dance?"

"Oh, so-so," Tom answered. "I've had better."

"Breakfast is ready. Now tell me all about it while we eat."

"Well, it was just like all others. Same people there, dressed about the
same. I was in hopes you would read about it in the morning paper and
let me off. That would give you a better account of it than I can."

"But I want to hear about it from your point of view. Did anything of
any special importance happen? Whom did you dance with?"

There was a sharp questioning look in Mrs. Porter's eyes, that Tom, if
he noticed it at all, took in a masculine way to indicate a touch of
jealousy.

"No, nothing of any note. I danced with about the same people I do
usually. Mrs. DeBruler, I think."

"You think? That's complimentary to her. How was she dressed?"

"Oh, ah; (mentally) 'bl. slk.' Blue silk or black silk, which was it?
(Aloud) Blue silk, I think."

"Blue silk! My, she oughtn't to wear blue. What's that card you have in
your hand, your program?"

"Yes, I wanted to see whom else I danced with."

"Oh, let me see," Mrs. Porter exclaimed.

"Well, it is--that is, I was just looking for my program. I can't find
it. I must have lost it."

"Oh, that is too bad. I wanted to see it. Did you dance many dances?"

"No, not many. Just a few people we are under obligations to."

"How late did you stay?" Mrs. Porter asked, as she passed him his second
cup of coffee.

"About midnight, I think."

"Oh, where were you after that? You didn't get home until after one."

"M'm, my, this coffee's hot! One? Did you say one? The clock must have
been striking half-past eleven."

"No, I am sure it was after one, because I laid awake for a