Mrs.Packard and I had been out making some arrangements for the projected dinner-party and I had stopped for a minute in the library before going up-stairs.
A pile of mail lay on the table.

Running this over with a rapid hand, she singled out several letters which she began to open.

Their contents seemed far from satisfactory.

Exclamation after exclamation left her lips, her agitation increasing with each one she read, and her haste, too, till finally it seemed sufficient for her just to glance at the unfolded sheet before letting it drop.

When the last one had left her hand, she turned and, encountering my anxious look, bitterly remarked: "We need not have made those arrangements this morning.