The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1884-04-18

the handwriting. am Mr.. Hartley"
"Ohl " exclaimed Miss Twitterbit
with sigh of momentary relief. 'But
the letter was for your wife" she add
ed uneasily.
at IS all the same," said Mr.. Hart.
ley, lightly; II will give it to her.
How is your friend :" .....
But Miss Twitterbit paid no heed to
the question, being startled and fright
ened at learning that she had delivered
letter intended for Mrs Hartey's
private eye to her husband. If Mr..
Hunter was making love to another
mans wife, his conduct was inexcusa.
BILE, but it was frightful to reflect that
she might be the innocent cause of a
domestic explosion, Miss Twitterbit
trembled at her imprudence, and could
not conceal her dismay.
1T is all right ma'am," said Mr..
Hartley, eyeing her keenly "Im not
bit jealous. I'm model husband that
way. Mrs. Hartley shall have the
letter, but at present she is away in the
country .'t.A rr". -.u. u
Mr.. Hartley put the letter in his
pocket as he spoke, and walked on,
taking off his hat to her as he passed.
Under the circumstances, Miss Twitter-
bit perceived that there was no occa-
sion for her TO call at No. Is, aud she
therefore retraced her steps, full of
vague misgivings, but striving to as
sure herself that everything had gone
well. ,.-#.
She did not succeed, however, in re-
covering her equanimity but on the
contrary, the more she dreaded facing
her lodger. 1t might be relief tc his
mind, certainly, to learn that Mr.. Hart
ley was not jealous or angry, but she
thought he was more likely to be fur
ious with her for having failed to car.
ry out his instructions. Miss Twitter-
bit returned home leisurely, in an eco
nomical omnibus, and was conscious of
a desire to linger on the journey The
thought of the reception she would
meet with when she got back banished
all other speculations from her mind,
and being timid and nervous old lady,
she shrank from the impending inter
view. ..i.. i
No sooner had she entered tie hall
of her home than Mr.. Hunter hailed
her from the top of the staircase.
"Come up, Miss Twitterbit Is it
all right 2" he inquired, anxiously.
| "Did you deliver the letter 2"
! Eyes, sir, it is all right" said poor
Miss Twitterbit, screwing up her cour-
age and following her lodger into his
sitting room.
| "What did she say ?"he inquired,
cautiously closing the door behind her.
''The lady was away, but her hus-
band opened the letter" began
Miss Twitterbit, desperately.
| "What?" interrupted Mr.. Hunter,
excitedly.
"Mr. Hunter opened it, sir, and he
laughed quite pleasantly, and said he
would give it to his wife when she
came back from the country" said
Miss Twitterbit, eagerly. ..'....
| "Of all the Internal" but Mr..
Hunters words died away on his lips
and he seemed incapable of utterauce.
He glared at poor Miss Twitterbit,
while every atom Of color left his face
and he was obliged to cling to the
back of a chair for support. Miss
Twitterbit was too terrified even to
scream, and stood trarsfixed by his
furious glance till the sound of mems
voices in the hail below aroused her
energies. ..
sit is all over" murmured Mr.. Hun
ter staggering across the room like a
drunken man, and dropping heavily
into a chair. "Here they come /" I
AT the same moment the door open
ed, and the gentleman who had called
himself Mr.. Hartley walked briskly in
to the room, followed by policeman
The last mentioned aparition revealed
to Miss Twitterbit the true state of tn,
case, and she sank down on the sofa il
a half-fainting condition, overcom,
with horror and dismay. She was to,
agitated to pay attention to the hur
ried words that passed between tn,
new arrivals and her lodger, but sh
gathered enough to understand that h
was "wanted" on charge of embezzle
ment, but that his hiding place hat
never been suspected until that day.
| 81 suppose that valentine was a tricl
of the cursed police y she at lengtl
heard Mr.. Hunter say. 81 was foo
to be deceived by it. When it was 20,
late l suspected the truth. On secon'
thought felt convinced my wifi,
hadn't sent it. ...' ..| ...
"Valentine What valentine p in
quired the detective with genuine sur
prise. '. I.a'.
Mr. Hunter only shrugged his shoul
ders scornfully, and rose to accompan,
his captors; but Miss Twitterbit hung
J her head and shed silent tear.