ething to
ponder over. She smiled and looked at the signature again.... John,
Giovanni. She would call him Giovanni. She had been rather clever. To
have had the wit to look in the library for the blue book and the club
list; not every woman would have thought of that. Then a new inspiration
came to her, and she struck the bell again. She sent Bettina for the
card-basket in the lower hall. She scattered the contents upon the
floor, touched up the wood fire, and sat down Turkish-wise. She sorted
the cards carefully, and lo! she was presently rewarded. She held up the
card in triumph. He had called at this house on Thanksgiving Day. He was
known, then, to the master and mistress, this Giovanni with the Irish
surname. Very good. She now gave her full attention to the letter,
which, incredible as it may seem, she had not yet perused.

To the Lady in the Fog--To begin with, let me say that I, too, have
laughed. But there was some degree of chagrin in my laughter. On my
word of honor, it was a distinct shock to my sense of dignity when
I saw that idiotic personal of mine in the paper. It is my first
offense of the kind, and I am really ashamed. But the situation was
not ordinary. Ordinary women do not sing in the streets after
midnight. As you could not possibly be ordinary, my offense has
greater magnitude. To indite a personal to a gentlewoman! A
thousand pardons! I doubted that it would come under your notice;
and even if it did, I was sure that you would ignore it. And yet I
am human enough to have hoped that you wouldn't. When I found your
note, it was a kind of vindication; it proved that a singular
episode had taken place. To find a woman with an appreciable sense
of humor is rare; to find one who couples this with initiation is
rarer still. I do not refer to wit, the eternal striving to say
something clever, regardless of cost. How you found out my name
confuses me.

"Indeed!" murmured the lady.

Doubtless you have the club list in your house. Do you know, when
the letter was brought me, I saw nothing unusual about the address.
It was only when I began this letter that I comprehended how clever
you were. There are half a dozen J.H's at the club. I tell you
truthfully, over my own name, that your voice startled me. It would
have startled me under ordinary circumstances. In New York one does
not sing