ns of her presence when he entered the
house.

'Where is Belle?' he said, as he came into the parlor.

'Belle has not returned yet from Mrs. Caruthers's. It is rather strange.
I have just sent the carriage for her. Wakeman brings back word that she
is not there.'

'Wakeman is an idiot!' exclaimed Hiram, with a degree of temper so
unusual, that Mrs. Meeker started--'an idiot! I dare say he did not make
his message intelligible.'

Now, 'Wakeman' was Mrs. Meeker's private servant--a family servant, she
was pleased to say; thereby meaning, not that he had been in the employ
of her father, honest Thorn the plumber, nor yet in the service of her
mother, the "poor relation," but that in fact he was her servant before
she was married, and had remained _par excellence_ her servant ever
since.

She therefore rose in arms at once, in vindication of her favorite, and
was about to work herself into one of her customary manifestations,
which Hiram was evidently in no state of mind to bear, when there was
suddenly a ring at the door. An instant's parley, and the servant
entered, bearing a note to Mr. Meeker.

The superscription was in Belle's handwriting.

A 'terrible sagacity' informed Hiram's heart of something dreadful about
to shock it. He tore open the envelope with fierceness, and read as
follows:

'DEAR PAPA: Don't be angry with me. I was married
yesterday to Filippo Barbone. I married him because I love him, and
could never love any one else. I knew you would not consent, but I
could not live without him. Forgive your little girl, dear papa,
and write me to come back to you with my dear Filippo. Oh, I know
you will like _him_. Send to me at the Gresham House, Philadelphia.
I shall be in agony till I hear from you. Love to dear mamma and
Harriet. If I only had your forgiveness, how happy I should be,
dear, dear papa!

'Your little Belle.'

[This letter, mainly the production of the Signor, was prepared and put
into the hands of his accomplice before the runaways set off, with
directions to watch for Hiram's entrance into his house, and deliver
immediately after.]

Never before did Hiram Meeker give way to such an exhibition of rage.

He glared fiercely about him, as if endeavoring to find some person on
whom to vent it.

There was no one but his wife, who stood directly before him, her angry
reply in favor of 'Wakeman' having been cut short by t