ally forced to retire disappointed and
somewhat anxious, for Thaddeus did not return home that night.

Somewhere in the neighborhood of eight o'clock the next morning
Bessie received a second telegram, which read as follows:

"DO NOT WORRY. I AM ALL RIGHT. WILL BE HOME ABOUT NINE, HAVE
BREAKFAST."

"Now I wonder what on earth can have kept him?" Bessie said.
"Something has happened, I am sure. Perhaps an accident on the
elevated, or maybe--"

She did not finish the sentence, but rushed into the library and
snatched up the morning paper, scanning its every column in the
expectation, if not hope, of finding that some horrible disaster had
occurred, in which her Thaddeus might have been involved. The paper
disclosed nothing of the sort. Only a few commonplace murders, the
usual assortment of defalcations, baseball prophecies, and political
prognostications could Bessie discover therein. Never, in fact, had
the newspaper seemed so uninteresting--not even a bargain-counter
announcement was there--and with an impatient, petulant stamp of her
little foot she threw the journal from her and returned to the
dining-room. It was then half-past eight, and, hardly able to
contain herself with excitement, Bessie sat down by the window, and
almost, if not quite, counted every swing of the pendulum that
pushed the hands of the clock on to the desired hour. She could not
eat, and not until curiosity was gratified as to what it was that
had detained Thaddeus, and what, more singular still, was bringing
him home instead of sending him to business at nine o'clock in the
morning, could she, in fact, do anything.

Finally, the grinding sounds of carriage wheels on the gravel road
without were heard, and in an instant Bessie was at the door to
welcome the prodigal. And what a Thaddeus it was that came home
that morning! His eyes showed conclusively that he had had no
sleep, save the more or less unsatisfactory napping which suburban
residents get on the trains. His beautiful pearl-gray scarf, that
so became him when he left home the previous morning, was not
anywhere in sight. His cheek was scratched, and every button that
his vest had ever known had taken wings unto itself and flown,
Bessie knew not whither. And yet, tired out as he was, dishevelled
as he was, Thaddeus was not grumpy, but inclined rather to explosive
laughter as he entered the house.

"Why, Thaddeus!" cried Bessie, in alarm. "What on earth is the
matter