"I should have broken out," cried Euphemia. "I would never have stayed an hour in that place after I found out what it was, especially on a bridal trip."
"If we'd done that," said Pomona, "they'd have got men after us, an' then everybody would have thought we was real crazy. We made up our minds to wait for the doctor's letter, but it wasn't much fun. An' I didn't tell no romantic stories to fill up the time. We sat down an' behaved like the commonest kind o' people. You never saw anybody sicker of romantics than I was when I thought of them two loons that called themselves Mrs. Andrew Jackson and General Tom Thumb. I dropped Miguel altogether, an' he dropped Jiguel, which was a relief to me, an' I took strong to Jonas, even callin' him Jone, which I consider a good deal uglier an' commoner even than Jonas. He didn't like this much, but said that if it would help me out of the Miguel, he didn't care.
"Well, on the mornin' of the next day I went into the little front room that they called the office, to see if there was a letter for us yet, an' there wasn't nobody there to ask. But I saw a pile of letters under a weight on the table, an' I just looked at these to see if one of 'em was for us, an' if there wasn't the very letter Jone had written to the doctor! They'd never sent it! I rushes back to Jone an' tells him, an' he jus' set an' looked at me without sayin' a word. I didn't wonder he couldn't speak.
"I'll go an' let them people know what I think of 'em,' says I.
"'Don't do that,' said Jone, catchin' me by the sleeve. 'It won't do no good. Leave the letter there, an' don't say nothin' about it. We'll stay here till afternoon quite quiet, an' then we'll go away. That garden wall isn't high.'
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