Campbell: "Touch what? I'm coming to get some coffee." Mrs. Campbell: "Well, I'll give you some coffee; but don't you touch a single one of those letters--after what you've said." Campbell: "All right!" He extends one hand for the coffee, and with the other sweeps all the letters together, and starts back to his place. As she flies upon him, "Look out, Amy; you'll make me spill this coffee all over the table-cloth." Mrs. Campbell, sinking into her seat: "Oh, Willis, how can you be so base? _Give_ me my letters. _Do!_" Campbell, sorting them over: "You may have half." Mrs. Campbell: "No; I shall have all. I insist upon it." Campbell: "Well, then, you may have all the ladies' letters. There are twice as many of them." Mrs. Campbell: "No; I shall have the men's, too. Give me the men's first." Campbell: "How can I tell which are the men's without opening them?" Mrs. Campbell: "How could you tell which were the ladies'? Come, now, Willis, don't tease me any longer. You know I hate it." Campbell, studying the superscriptions, one after another: "I want to see if I can guess who wrote them. Don't you like to guess who wrote your letters before you open them?" Mrs. Campbell, with dignity: "I don't like to guess who wrote other people's letters." She looks down at the table-cloth with a menace of tears, and Campbell instantly returns all the notes. Campbell: "There, Amy; you may have them. I don't care who wrote them, nor what's in them. And I don't want you to interrupt me with any exclamations over them, if you please." He reaches to the floor for his newspaper, and while he sips his coffee, Mrs. Campbell loses no time in opening her letters. Mrs. Campbell: "I shall do nothing _but_ exclaim. The Curwens accept, of course--the very first letter. That means Mrs. Curwen; that is one, at any rate. The New York Addingses do, and the Philadelphia Addingses don't; I hardly expected they would, so soon after their aunt's death, but I thought I ought to ask them. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, naturally; it was more a joke than anything, sending their invitation. Mrs. and the Misses Carver regret very much; well, _I_ don't. Professor and Mrs. Traine are very happy, and so am I; he doesn't go everywhere, and he's awfully nice. Mr. and Mrs. Lou Bemis are very happy, too, and Dr. Lawton is very happy. Mrs. Bridges Dear Mrs. Campbells me, and is very sorry in the first person; she's always nice. Mr. Phillips, Mr. Rangeley, Mr. Small, Mr. Peters, Mr. Staples, Mr. Thornton, _all_ accept, and they're all charming young fellows." Campbell, around his paper: "Well, what of that?" Mrs. Campbell, with an air of busy preoccupation: "Don't eavesdrop, please; I wasn't talking to you. The Merrills have the pleasure, and the Morgans are sorrow-stricken; the--" Campbell: "Yes, but why should you care whether those fellows are charming or not? Who's going to marry them?"