We trusted Bettina as we trusted ourselves, and when we told her the good news, she clapped her hands for joy, laughing, yet ready to weep, and was as happy as even she could be, which was very happy indeed.
After we had talked, laughed, and cried a reasonable time in Betty's parlor, Frances handed me her letter, which was a bulky document, well taped and waxed.
"It will require a week for me to translate this," I remarked, weighing the letter in my hand.
"What do you mean by translating it ?" she asked in surprise.
"I must write it out in cipher.

Hamilton directed that all letters should be sent in that form," I answered, amused at her alarm.
"No, no!" she cried, snatching the letter from me, pressing it to her breast and blushing to her ears.

"You shall not see my letter!" "Why ?" I asked.
"Because," she answered.
"That is no reason," I replied.

"Of course you have written nothing that you would not want me or your father to see ?" "Well, yes, I have," she returned emphatically.

"A great deal.