"Then you shan't" exclaimed Kate, snatching the paper from him. "No one shall ever blame you, though, for 'tisn't you who are throwing away the money; it is I."
She stepped quickly toward the grate, extended her hand, stopped, turned her head and said:
"As some reward for my self-sacrifice, mayn't I read the letter before I burn it?"
"You poor child!" murmured Trif.
"What? Was it as bad as that?"
"Look at it, Kate," said Phil, "and you will know what Trif means."
In a second Kate was under the chandelier and turning the sheet, but as she looked her face became blank, for Phil, supposing the paper was to go into the hands of a lot of business men, had penned over every line so skillfully, after the manner of commercial correspondents who make erasures in letters, that not a word of the original writing was decipherable.
"You shall know it all, you dear disappointed girl," said Trif. "I shall tell you every word of it this very evening—this very moment. Come with me; I know the others will excuse us under the circumstances."
Together they started to leave the room, but encountered Trixy, who was just entering.
"I most forgot about that s'prise," said the child to Jermyn, as she stopped before him. "The dinner was so good, and you folks talked so much, that I didn't get a chance to say nothin', and then I got sleepy while you was singin', and I'd have forgot all about it entirely if you hadn't begun to talk about throwin' money to dogs, and papa explained how it was."