for phrases, and the stately periods flowed on until Mr. Billiter
gasped, "Damn it, gal!--do you mean to say you've deceived your father
so you might git out along of a blanked lunatic?" This was too much.
Devine observed with majesty, "Sir, I can pardon much to the father of
the lady whom I love; but there are limits, sir. Beware!"

"You come along to the trap, you hussy; and as for you mister, let me
ketch you anywhere near our place and I'll turn the yard dog out on
you!"

Poor Letty was severely shut up at home. Her father questioned her much,
and when he heard at length that the flashy young man was an actor, he
gave one choking yell, and sat down in limp fashion. All the rest of the
day he muttered at intervals, "A hactor!" and pressed his hand to his
forehead with many groans. At night he went into Letty's room, and as he
gazed on the girl's worn face he said, "A hactor! The Billiters is done
for. Their goose is cooked!"

Devine fairly luxuriated in his desolation. I could tell from his mode
of dwelling on his woes that he had keenly enjoyed playing the forlorn
lover. As he told me of those sleepless nights spent long ago, and
rolled out his sonorous record of suffering, his watering eye gleamed
with pleasure, and I can well imagine how sorely he bored his friends
when he was young and his grief was at its most enjoyable height. But he
was no milksop, and he resolved that Mr. Billiter should not baulk him.
Where is the actor who does not delight in stratagems and mysteries?
Bless their honest hearts, they could not endure life without an
occasional plot or mystification! Two months after Letty's
incarceration, a decently-dressed man called at Mr. Billiter's with a
parcel. The visitor was clad in tweed; his smart whiskers were