"I thought you were at the opera."
"No, I didn't go," Mrs. Upton replied, with a smile.
"There seems to be something in the air that prevents people from
keeping their engagements to-day. Bliss didn't turn up," said Henry.
"What did you do with the tickets?"
"I sent Molly hers by messenger, and told her I'd join her at the
opera-house," said Mrs. Upton, her face beaming. "Did you say Walter
didn't go to the club?" she added, anxiously.
"Yes. He's a great fellow, he is! Got no more idea about sticking to an
engagement than a cat," said Upton. "Afraid of my forty points, I
imagine."
"Possibly; but maybe this will account for it," said Mrs. Upton, with a
sigh of relief, which hardly seemed necessary under the circumstances,
handing her husband a note.
"What's this?" asked Upton, scanning the address upon the envelope.
"A note--from Walter," Mrs. Upton replied. "Read it."
And Upton read as follows:
"SATURDAY MORNING, _January_ --, 189-.
"MY DEAR MRS. UPTON,--I am sorry to hear
that Henry is called away, but there are compensations.
If I cannot take luncheon with him,
it will give me the greatest pleasure to listen to
Calve in your company. I may be a trifle late,
but I shall most certainly avail myself of your
kind thought of me.
"Yours faithfully,
"WALTER BLISS."
"What the deuce is this?" asked Upton. "I called away? Who said I was
called away?"
"I did," said Mrs.
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