"Oh, you genius!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
"Thank you," he said, bowing. Then he added: "Let me see—this paper won't do. Where can we get some fool's-cap?"
"There must be some in the library," she answered. "I'll slip down and see."
She hastened down-stairs and soon returned with the paper. "I feel like a burglar," she said.
"And I am a forger," he replied.
"Won't take you long, will it?"
"No."
The work was soon completed. The scorched letters were thrown into the fire. "She will never know the difference," said Ellen. "It is a sin to deceive her, but then, following the burglary, deception is a kindness; and there can't be so very much wickedness in a sin that keeps one from being unhappy."
"Or keeps one from being discovered," he suggested. She laughed, not mirthfully, but with an attempt at self-consolation. "This is our first secret," she said, as she opened the door.
"And I think you will keep it," he replied, smiling at her.