"I hadn't really read one of Emma's letters for
months. But somehow I couldn't help reading
these. I had forgotten what a gift for the expres-
sion of sentiment Emma had. She fairly revelled
in it, Tom. Those letters were simply writhing
with clinging female adjectives. They SQUIRMED
with affection.
"You may remember that Lucy was a rather
jealous sort of a person. Right in the midst of her
alarm and grief and self-reproach over her grand-
father, and in the midst of my efforts to comfort
her, she spied the feminine handwriting on those
two letters. I had glanced through them hurriedly,
and laid them on the table.
"Tom, I was in bad. The dates on them, you
know, were so RECENT. I didn't want Lucy to read
them. But I didn't dare to ACT as if I didn't want
her to. So I handed them over.
"I suppose--to a bride who had only been
married a little more than a week--and who had
hurt her grandfather nearly to death in the marry-
ing, those letters must have sounded rather odd.
I tried to explain. But all my explanations only
seemed to make the case worse for me. Lucy was
furiously jealous. We really had a devil of a row
before we were through with it. I tried to tell her
that I loved no one but her. She pointed out that
I must have said much the same sort of thing to
Emma.
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