"Archie," said Letitia mysteriously, "I don't believe that Mrs. Potzenheimer ever saw a Vanderbilt. I was furious with her, and told her that I should write at once to the Duchess of Marlborough and inform her of the behavior of her favorite cook. I thought that she might be contemplating returning to the service of the Vanderbilts. Would you believe it, Archie? She simply grinned in my face and mimicked me. I was so anxious for her to leave the house that I could scarcely wait. I don't think that she was more than five minutes getting ready, but it seemed like an eternity. After she had gone I went to my room to dress--don't think, dear, that the red flannelette was premeditated--and it was then I discovered that my diamond ring--the hoop you gave me, Archie--that I had laid on my bureau had vanished." "I'll go at once and get a detective," I exclaimed ferociously. "Hush," she said in a tired voice. "Six silver spoons, monogrammed A. L. F., that Aunt Julia gave me, your gold whisky flask, and my tortoise-shell comb, with the pearls and turquoises are all missing. She was in a great hurry to go, and I was in a greater hurry to see her go--" "And she was such a simple, inoffensive old woman," I muttered savagely, "and you hated to see her work! And you thought she should be with her grandchildren! And the cottage with honeysuckle all over it! And nowhere to go! And a weak heart! And that infernal mutton stew--" I paused in incoherent anger, only to experience a painful remorse, as Letitia began to sob. "That is so like a man!" she cried, turning from me as I uttered fervent apologies and pleas for pardon. "You are a man, after all, Archie, and I never looked upon you as one. I thought you were something better--something nobler. I was mistaken. I find--I find that I have--have married--have married a man after all." I was greatly alarmed. This was the first sign of the demon of disenchantment. Although I don't know why I was so bitterly chagrined at Letitia's discovery that I was a man--I nevertheless was. For the moment it seemed disgusting to be a man. I could have found it in my heart to wish that I were a monkey. "Forgive me, Letitia, forgive me," I urged, severely distressed; "I was wrong. I hope you'll pardon me. Don't--don't, dear--call me a man, again, in that tone. I can't stand it. Oh, curse this Potzenheimer woman who has brought us to this!" "There--there!" exclaimed Letitia, brushing away her tears and kissing me. "You didn't mean it, I know, but after what I've gone through this afternoon, I can't endure very much more. And you appeared to be reproaching me, as though I were upholding that villainous hypocrite of a woman, who seemed--" She paused, as though expecting me to add "so simple and inoffensive." But this time, I had learned my lesson, and I was so thankful for Letitia's forgiveness that I had nothing further to say. And, after all, I had been wrong to taunt her.