"Don't hesitate for that. She'll be delighted to see you. Always
glad to meet any of my old friends. So come along. I've a dozen
things to say to you."

"I'm really afraid of intruding on your wife," said Mr. Jones, still
holding back from the invitation.

"Nonsense!" answered my husband. "My friends are hers. She will be
delighted to see you. I've talked of you to her a hundred times."

At this Mr. Jones yielded.

"I can't promise you any thing extra," said Mr. Smith, as they
walked along. "Nothing more than a good, plain family dinner, and a
warm welcome."

"All I could ask or desire," returned Mr. Jones.

It was a few minutes to two o'clock. The bell had rung for dinner;
and I was just rising to go to the dining room, when I heard the
street door open, and the sound of my husband's voice in the
passage. There was a man in company with him, for I distinctly heard
the tread of a pair of feet. What could this mean? I remained
seated, listening with attention.

My husband entered the parlor with his companion, talking in a
cheerful, animated strain; and I heard him pull up the blinds and
throw open the shutters. Presently he came tripping lightly up the
stairs to my sitting room.