"Oh, I know it has! But I had some good advice,—it wasn't all sheer woman's wit—Mr. Askerson helped me. I don't know how I came to confide in him—I've seen him so few times—but he wrote most of the letters for me, and I copied them; so they would seem more like a man's letters, you know. But I confess—I don't know what you'll think of my praising myself so—all those intimate personal things were truly my own. Most of them my husband had said to me during our honeymoon. I thought they would be most likely to arouse his jealousy."
"Oh, he's jealous enough," said Astro. "You needn't fear that you haven't succeeded. He has threatened to kill the writer of the letters."
She smiled wistfully. "Well, I hope he won't kill me when he finds out I'm the one. And that's the question! I always expected to tell him; but now I'm afraid to. I didn't quite intend to let it go so far, and I don't know how to explain. What shall I do?" She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. There was no haughtiness left, now.
"I think you needn't worry," said Astro, giving her his hand in sympathy; "for I met Mr. Stellery this morning on his way to the office. He told me that he intended to take you abroad immediately. That, he said, would stop this nonsense and give him a chance to get acquainted with you all over again. He said he was sure you had been left alone too much."
"Really?" she said, suddenly smiling. "Oh, then, I'm sure the letters will stop! And," she added softly, "when I've quite won him back, and we're happy again, I'll confess everything." She paused a moment, then spoke as if to herself. "There's a little canal in Venice
