something from him, but warning her accomplice to conceal it too.
"There was nothing which one of them knew that the other did not," thought Tom, as he sat glued to the chair, and gazing at the mute, terrible lines. Finally he sprang up and left the house.
Sue came home late, hoping to find Tom as usual in his big arm-chair, reading the evening newspaper. The library was dark; no one was there.
"Has not Mr. Lawton been in yet?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied the servant. "He has been in and gone out again."
"How very strange," thought Sue. "I wish he was here."
She sat down and finished her letter in few words; then went to the window and watched for Tom. It was long past the dinner hour when he came in. He seemed preoccupied and grave. After asking him tenderly if he were ill, and if anything troubled him, Susan became silent. She had learned, and it was one of the hardest lessons of her married life, that when Tom was tired or worried about business matters, it was better not to talk to him. After dinner, he sat down near Susan's table, and glanced over the columns of the newspaper. The letter to Bell lay on the table. Taking it up he said casually,
"May I read it, Sue?"
"Oh, I guess you don't care to read it, this time,
