SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3419, 26 September 1919, Page 65

SHORT STORIES.

[All Rights Reserved.] SISTckS FOUR. By Mrs George De Hohne Vaizet. There were four girls and only one invitation, which was ail the more deplorable, as the invitation was unique, and the- desire to accept it universal and fervid.

Said Mary: "I'm the eldest. From the foundations of the world, the eldest has had the choice. Look at the laws of primogeniture! Besides, I'm amende, and in spring I'm at my worst. The east winds kill me, and if you had any decency at all you'd urge me to go. Personally, I consider it a providence that I've bought, a new black dress. I'll have another top made for evening, and with odds and ends of trimmings it will pass for three at least. I've thought it all out."

Frances said: " This is an age of liberty. I am not in the least ready to kowtow to Mary because she happens to have been born a year in advance. All I ask you is this: Which is more likejy to be of social value in a countey house, Mary or I?? Without making any invidious comparisons, I ask you plainly—Can she play? Can she sing? Can she read accompaniments at sight and transpose them into another key? If not—well!" " Music," Margaret declared in her turn, "is all very well, but how do we know that Mrs Vansittart's friends care for music at all? What about sports? Did I win the silver cup in the tennis tournament or did I not? Is my golf handicap smaller than any other girl's in the neighbourhood, or is it not? Can any one of you hold a candle to me in any one single game you choose to mention —and who do you suppose is most welcome in a country house, a girl who is sporting or a girl who is not? To my mind it seems incomprehensible that you girls should even wish to go!" Beryl raised her eyes from her sewing and glanced smilingly into the mirror over the mantelpiece. "I'm pretty!" she said simply, and her words fell like a bombshell into the midst of the little group. The three elder sisters stared blankly at Beryl, and felt their own claims to priority crumble miserably into dust. What was the use of primogeniture, what was the advantage of music, or even a praiseworthy handicap at golf, compared with this outward and visible superiority which Nature had stamped on Beryl's features? Mary was plain and dun colour; Frances stooped and wore glasses'; Margaret was square and ungraceful; but from the topmost wave of Beryl's head to the tip of her little shoe the most critical eye couid discover nothing but beauty, grace, and charm. It was not classical beauty; a Grecian goddess would have disdained SO large a mouth, so saucy a nose; but the charming face was all the more charm-, ing by reason of its irregularity, and even the various members of the household who were accustomed to seeing her every day realised that when Beryl performed the simplest action it became suddenly infused with. charm.

Beryl daintily pinned a fichu into position on the bodice of an evening gown, and the three elder sisters, staring at her, felt in their bones a dismal conviction that that fichu would flaunt in marble halls while they themselves lingered sadly at home, for Mrs Vansittart was the wife of a rich American client of their father's, and the invitation to " Let one of your girls come and stay with me" had been supplemented by more than a soupcon of insinuation. <*

"Why won't you let one of your girls come up and stay with me?" the good lady had said to Mr Egerton, when he had lunched at her house a few days before. "I'd give her a real good time." Then with a smile, " I just love having a' cute young girl to take round, and it's a rest to a, childless woman to have a pretty girl to help entertain."

Mr Egerton had written the exact words in a "letter to his wife. Perhaps he felt them easier to write than to say, but after the first reading they had been actfully ignored until this minute, when Beryl had heartlessly revived them again. There was a long silence—a silence of a minute at least, which is very long indeed when one remembers that there were four girls in the room. Then Mary began again in a voice of stern, practical common sense : " The invitation must be answered tonight. I have already stated my views. I stick to all I have said." "So do I," said Frances. " So do I," said Margaret. " Like glue," said BerylIt was what might fairly be called an impasse. Tea-time came and passed; dinner was served; post-time was at hand —and still the contending parties remained at wai, and the parents refused the onus of deciding. It was only desperation and the prospect of writing a letter in ten minutes which goaded Mrs* Egerton to propose drawing lots, and the suggestion was accepted with but an ill grace. "Of course," grumbled the three elder sister, " if it comes to luck—" Once more they felt in their bones the dismal certainty that the lot would fall to Beryl, but that cerainty made their disappointment none the less acute when their fears came true.

Beryl behaved very nicelv. She evinced no triumph? and kept discreetly out of sight for the remainder of the evening. The next morning she was very amiable and forbearing, and her conversation was consolatory in tone.

"I shall always remember," she said sweetly, "that my gain has been your loss, and I shall do my best to make it tip to' you. I have made up my mind to marry the richest man I meet, and invite you all to stay with me, and give you a lovely time. It's not a matter of my own feelings • I shall put them on one side and

The estate of a recently-deceased Inveroargill resident lias been sworn at £68,000.

think first of the general good. We need a rich brother-in-law in the family, and I'm going to find one, or Jcnow the reason ■why. I shall be married next autumn, and you shall be my bridesmaids, and come to stay for the ehootin'." She dropoed the " g " of intent and in preparation of her future high estate, but her sisters did not smile. They were not in a smiling mood. Besides, Beryl ■was always talking rubbish that she did not mean; they were sure that she meant this no more than the rest.

But they were- mistaken. For once Beryl was in earnest.

There were four unattached young men Staying at Belton Grange. They had come in from shooting, and were partaking of tea in the hall when Beryl arrived, and the one with the long nose and the grey eyes was most assiduous in handing scones. The one with the dark eyebrows was the handsomest, but Beryl plumped at once in favour of "the nosey one," as she christened Jack Hume in her thoughts, which made it the more agreeable when, on accompanying"-her upstairs to her room, Mrs Vansittarfc vouchsafed the information that Mr Hume was the biggest catch in the county, and owned quite a pile of money. "I've given him to you for dinner tonight. Put on a pretty frock!" she said, laughing, and, being a born matchmaker, started then and there to weave a mental romance between this poor pretty girl and the wealthy young sportsman. Quite time that Jack married, and since money was no object, how could he do better than choose this charming girl, whose family was equal to his own in standing, though painfully deficient in the almightydollar 1

Nothing could have appeared more artless than the manner in which Beryl accepted the fact that Jack Hume was invariably chosen as her escort, given the place next to her own, left pointedly alone by her side. Alone in her room, she laughed, and grimaced saucily in the glass and occasionally yawned, because, really, don't you know, he was a dear fellow, but rather dull! He took everything she said in such deadly earnest, and apparently pondered over her conversation in the night watches, since the next day he quoted extracts- therefrom, to contradict her latest utterances. It was most fatiguing! Beryl shrugged her shoulders and retorted pertly : "But, dear me, that was on Tuesday! What I say on Tuesday has not the slightest bearing on my sentiments on Wednesday!" and she looked so pTetty as she said it that Jack laughed and stared harder than ever; but presently he became very grave again, and said that he hoped that she was not so fickle on all subjects; whereupon Beryl avoided him . studiously for the rest of the evening, for, after all, this was only the third day, and things seemed progressively a little too fast. She had definitely made up her mind to accept Jack Hume if, as seemed probable, he wished her to be his wife, but she was not the least in love with him. He was too serious and thoughtful to catch her light, girlish fancy, and so far Beryl was practically in ignorance of the presence of a heart. But on the seventh day of her visit to Branscomb something happened which revealed it to her in a dramatic and painful fashion. It was a crisp October morning, and the men had departed to shoot over some covers some miles away, leaving the women to amuse themselves until it was time to drive over and join them at lunch.

Jack Hume started off with the rest, but apparently had soon changed his plans, for he appeared suddenly in the morning room, and invited Beryl to come for a spin in a new oar which he had had sent down from town, and which he professed himself anxious to try. Beryl readily agTeed, and ran upstairs to put on her demure and becoming motor-bonnet, asking herself the while if the all-important moment had arrived, and she was to come home from the drive an engaged young woman! Jack and she knew each other quite well, and she was placidly content at the prospect. Of course, it would be much nicer to be really in love, but one could not have everything in this world, and he was quite a dear. On the whole, she had been very fortunate, and they would probably settle dowi. into quite a satisfactory Darby and Joan. The first part of the drive went off without a hitch. The new car ran smoothly and well, and Jack was too much taken up with his duties as chauffeur to. have leisure for sentimental conversation. _ From within the curtain of her Victorian bonnet Beryl watched him, and felt a renewal of the satisfaction she had felt on their first meeting. It was not admiration—no one could call Jack Hume handsome; it was just satisfaction, neither more or less. His appearance pleased her, fulfilled an undefined ideal which slumbered within. Even his very defects were pleasant. If she had had the choice she would not have had his nose one scrap less long, his jaw less square and lean. Leaning back luxuriously in her seat, and watching his bio:, strong figure. Beryl felt affectionate and approving—but, alas! not one whit in love! Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, came the trasedy.

The car was spinning along a smooth, green lane. So far as the eye could reach there was not a house nor a person in sight, atid Jack had taken the opportunity to increase his speed to test further the powers of his car. Fe did not sound his' horn, for there was no one to warn, until, suddenly, from behind the shelter of a tree, a woman strolled into the road. She was rending a book over which her head was bent, and her attention was so much absorbed that she cast no glass around. She had evidently been resting behind the trees, and now she was leisurelv continuing her way. She was young, she was slim, she was—great heavens! the horror of it; —she was but a score of yards in front of the racing car!

Beryl shrieked and hid her face, Jack sounded the horn and rammed down his brake; the girl, awake in a second to the horror of her position, lost her head, and, instead of jumping on one side, darted helplessly to right to left, sealing her own doom.

The car leapt at her, felled her to the ground, stopped short with a jerk and a groan, and at the same moment Jack was on his knees beside the helpless form. It was a terrible sight. Beryl gave one glance and sank back sick and trembling, but she .?as not allowed to give way to her feelings. Jack's voice summoned her in sharp, sfcern accents which shamed her into obedience. She found a■» flask of brandy; she ran back to a stream for water; she tore handkerchiefs into strips, and helped to bandage the wounds; she brought cushions from the car to pillow the unconscious head. It was a painful effort for a girl who was used to faint at the sight of a out finger, and had never in her life seen a serious accident, but Jack had apparently no thought for hex feelings; not so much as a glance did he cast in her direction during the whole of that terrible half-hour, jjeryl was woman enough to approve of that indifference, but she. herself was acutely, vividly conscious of Jack.

As she looked at the strong face, grey with anxiety and grief, there stirred within her own heart a flood of womanly tenderness, a womanly longing to comfo-t and help him in his distress. The injured girl moaned and opened her eyes, and instantly Jack bent over her, murmuring gentle, reassuring words, soothing her with big, tender hands; and as she watched him something else dawned in Beryl's heart, ; a longing that she, too, might receive such tenderness and care, a mad wish that she might change places with the girl outstretched on the grass. In a word, her hour had come, for human nature has many sides, and, though in the day of small things Beryl's heart had been closed against Jack Hume's advances, the hour of adversity had given him a key which admitted him to the very centre of the citadel.

"He is a man," sang Beryl's heart. "He is my man !" and the sober affection of the last few days fused suddenly into a quick, warm flame. Jack Hume dashed off to the nearest teiegraph station to wire for an ambulance, and after half an hour's delay the injured girl was conveyed to the local hospital. For the next three days her condition was serious, and Mrs Vansittart's household saw little of Jack Hume during that time. He seemed to live either at the hospital or in the little house where dwelt the patient's widowed mother, and one person at least felt convinced that that mother could have no better comfort in her sorrow.

Beryl's own visit was drawing to a close, and she no longer felt any assurance in Jack Hume's love. Now that her own feelings were involved, a new diffidence possessed her, a new timidity and distrust of herself. She was just an ordinary pretty girl. Jack must have met scores of others as pretty and attractive. Why should he care for her?

On the afternoon before her departure she strolled into the garden and sat alone, fiondering sadly over her future. The eaves were falling from the trees in a soft, noiseless shower, and Beryl sighed and saw in them an emblem of her own life. Her hopes, too, were dead; summer was over, the long grey winter stretched ahead.

Then suddenly Jack appeared, walking briskly down the path, his face alight with a new hope. "Good news 1" he cried—"good news! She is conscious; the danger is over. They have every hope that she will do well. m I have been talking over arrangements" with the mother. So soon as she can be moved I am going to send ->them down to my place by the sea." He seated himself by Beryl's side and leant back with a deep-drawn sigh of relief. "Thank God for that! I -seem hardly to have drawn a full breath since Monday. The strain has been ghastly." Then he' looked at her and his voice took a softer tone. "For you, too! You are looking pale. If I could have thought of anything else it would have been of you here alone —of the waste of our time. Beryl! you have understood? You have not misjudged me? Everything else had to wait while that poor soul lay in danger, but now I am free to think of ourselves ."

He bent forward, looking into her face. The three days' anxiety had left him white and wan, but his cheeks flushed as he met Beryl's eyes. His voice quivered unevenly. "You are leaving to-morrow, Mrs Vansittart tells ms. Before you go I should like, if you will allow me, to tell you something about myself. lam thirty-one, and for some years my people have been anxious that I should settle down. They think that I am lacking in sentiment in not choosing a wife long ago, but, as a matter of fact, it was too much sentiment which held me back —not too little. I have an ideal, you see, and none of the girls I met came up to it. I wanted a sweet, true-hearted girl, who would love me for myself and not for what I could give. It's a handicap for a man to be advertised as a big ' catch' wherever he goes. Once or twice when I've felt a passing attraction for a charming girl, I have discovered that Jack Hume himself was a very secondary consideration in her eyes. She wanted the money, the houses, the jewellery—the man himself had to be endured for the sake of his goods. That's a bitter expei'ience, or would have been if my own feelings had gone deep. As it ham>ened, it had not, but it made me cynical and distrustful, inclined to look upon all girls as mercenary and heartless. Then I met you, BeTyl. I tumbled in love with you that first evening, and I've gone on tumbling ever since. There was something different in you from every other girl—something crystalline and sweet. Your eyes seemed to look straight out of your soul. Everything about you

is sweet and natural and true. A roan might give his life to gain your love— I'd give mine I I am not worthy of you, Beryl, but you could try roe—give me a chance "

" Stop 1" cried Beryl hoarsely. The colour had faded from her cheeks as she listened to Jack's words, her eyes looked strained and wild. " Stop !" she cried, before you say another word. There is something which you must hear about me. I—am not sweet. I am mean and mercenary and scheming like the worst of those girls you have mentioned. We are ?oor at home, and there are four girls, t is hard to be poor when you are young —the youngest of four, and there is -not enough money to go round. When Mrs Vansittart's invitation came it seemed like my chance. - I came here determined to look for a rich man, and make him. propose to me if I could. I meant to marry him, whether I liked him or not. That first night—Mrs Vansittart told me—about you—so I—l knew! And then I tried—l did my best to make you ask me "

"Meaning to accept me, as you have said, caring nothing for me, but only what I could give?" Beryl nodded her head. " I thank you for your honesty. I am grateful to you that at least you spared me in time. I think," said Jack Hume dully, " there is nothing more to be said I" He took off his hat and left her, walking down the path with strong, resolute footsteps. On returning to the house he made an excuse to his hostess, and drove off to town in his car. So far as it was possible to prophesy events, Jack Hume had passed for ever out of Beryl Egerton's life. The three sisters decided in conclave that that visit to Mrs Vansittart's fine house had '' taken the starch'' out of Beryl. The contrast between the luxuries she had enjoyed beneath that hospitable roof and the parsimonies of home life had evidently been too strong for her endurance. She became depressed, silent, distrait, given to sitting alone, and going out long, solitary rambles. When a rare invitation arrived, she no longer clamoured for her " turn," but declared a preference for staying at home. She grew thin, and seemed chronically tired. Certainly she was less amusing than of yore, but, on the whole, the sisters considered that the change made for peace. The mother, more discerning, sighed to herself and administered tonic medicines. And so the months passed by. Christmas came and went; a new year dawned. March not only came in, but went cut blustering like a lion; and through the specious glare of sunshine April winds wreaked their usual vengeance on the human race.

The three elder sisters were busy over spring clothes, but for once Beryl betrayed a mysterious indifference to he: toilet. She said it "didn't matter," and wore a shabby black hat. which looked positively brown in the strong, keen light. Really, reflected her sisters, Beryl was growing disgracefully slack. She hardly looked pretty at all, with her pale face and her shabby, dingy clothes. What in the world could have happened to change a girl so completely in six short months? May came, and after it June. For very shame Beryl had had to buy a new hat, and the fact that it was undeniably becoming caused a distinct improvement in her spirits. She decided that she would pay a long-promised visit to a friend, and took herself to town by way of the übiquitous Tube. At Lancaster Gate there was the usual crowd in the station, and in her endeavour to avoid the charge of a small schoolboy she collided somewhat violently with a tall man who was talking to an official near the booking office. He involuntarily flung out his arm to steady her against the attack, murmured an inarticulate apologv, and stopped halfway, for, as the intelligent reader has no doubt divined, it was Jack Hume himself, and he had recognised Beryl at the first glance. He started, and instinctively his face set, but the next moment his expression altered, for Beryl had had no time to put up her defences, and the raised face beneath the broad-brimmed hat was eloquent in its expression. Bed as a rose was she, glad-eyed, rapturous, as typical a picture of a maid in love as a man need wish to see.

Jack Hume spoke a few rapid words to the official, and, laying a hand lightly on Beryl's arm, led her towards tbe sti'eet "It is so long since we have met," ha said. "Will you come for a little walk in the park with me? The bulbs a» - e looking very fine." Beryl did not care a rap about the bulbs. She was conscious only of one thing-Trthat Jack Hume was once more by her side, that he was looking at her with gentle eyes, speaking in gentle tones. They found a seat under the trees, and for the first time Jack ventured in a personal remark.

"You are looking rather pale. Have you been ill?" Beryl shook her head. A bright flush rose in her cheeks, taking away the reproach of paleness. "Only—unhappy!" she said, and blushed again more deeply than ever. "I've been unbappv, too!" said Jack Hume. He was silent for a minute, glancing keenly at the girl's downcast face. Then, suddenly, he added a few short words: "I've lost my money!" "Oh!" cried Bervl sharply. "Oh!" She turned round towards him with shining eyes; her right hand shot out and touched him on the arm. "Have you? Have you? Oh, I'm so glad! And have you—have you changed in—anything else? Because, if you haven't, I—l haven't either, and I always did, you know. It was because I did that I told you what I did. You took for granted that I had not grown to care, but had. and you never asked me, vou never gave me a chance to say, but inst stalked away in disgust and left me to break my heart! Of course, if you'd been rich I could never have told you, but if you were poor Oh, Jack!" cried poor Beryl pite-

ously, "say something! Say something! I'm going to cry in broad daylight, with all those people in the motor cars looking on I"

"My own dear, blessed little girl!" said Jack Hume beneath his breath.

It was a good hour later on before Beryl gave another thought to the question of money, and then, "Shall we have to wait very long before Ave can be married?" she asked. "Life has been such a desert- without you that I can't bear to be separated again. Couldn't we squeeze along somehow in a wee little flat?" . "Oh, well!" said Jack lightly. He crossed one leg over the other, and his grey eyes twinkled. "As a matter of fact, I was referring- to my purse. I lost it just now in the Tube. I was just giving the particulars to that Johnny when you swayed into my arms." >B» DR DICK'S DILEMMA, By Kate A. Simpson. (Copyright.) Dr Dick Forsyth had fallen in love, madly, hopelessly, in love with a pretty face, and the owner thereof, and she had not frowned upon his suit. Some day 1 Br Dick worked hard as he thought of that some day; and every noxious dose which he prescribed for his trusting and long-suffering patients seemed to bring him one day nearer the desired goal. Daisy Armitage was penniless, that he knew, but he would soon be making an income for them both. But just as the harbour lights appeared within view, just when the haven was in sight, a jsuddwi check came to damp his ardour and his hopes. lie received a letter from the uncle who had paid all his college expenses, and that letter wrought havoc to his plans. The old ■ man was ill—dying. He didn't want to see Dick, or any other doctor —he didn't believe in any one of them or in their doctor's stuffs; he had lived in Dame Nature's arms, and in her arms he would die; but he had one request to make of his nephew—a request which amounted almost to a command.

There was a girl, his ward, the child of his greatest friend. Margaret Atherley Avould be alone in the world when he was gone. Be had meant some day to make her rich and inform her of that wealth, but the days had slipped away, leaving her still untold, and now she would be left at the world's mercy. Old Simeon Ballantyne had made his will, leaving the bulk of his money to Maggie Atherley, and she in turn was left as a sacred trust to Jiis nephew. Dr Dick wouldn't find himself out of pocket by the transaction. He was remembered handsomely in the wil, but on one condition—namely, that this unknown ward was to take up her abode in his house, and remain there till, she married. On this condition the girl's fortune and the young man's legacy alike depended. Dr Dick stood, the letter between his fingers, hi 3 pipe between his teeth, and pondered on the matter. At any other time he wouldn't have hesitated, but now —what would Daisy say, Daisy, who was so soon to be his bride? There was only one course open: his uncle must be made to revoke his derision. But, alas! his uncle was dead. The great King Time had trumped his final trick, and revoke was impossible. Then Daisy must be made to—but no! The briefest consideration forced him to realise that Daisy was not a person to be " made " to do anything. He must find .some means of solving the difficulty. Meanwhile, there was only one thing to be done, and that was to obey the man-' date eet forth in the letter, and go to meet his new ward at the appointed rendezvous.

A railway station of all places to choose! The Wellfield junction, too. The young lady was to arrive by the 4.10 express, and would on his joining her hand him a letter. The young lady, so the solicitor had arranged, was to be dressed in blue, and carry a scarlet parasol. Dr Dick looked at his watch.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "they've run the matter pretty close I Why, it is after three now. What if I'd been away in the country over an urgent case? I suppose the precious ward would have had to whistle for me. I hope she's pretty; no, by the way, do I hope she's pretty, or do I not? I think Daisy would prefer it otherwise; therefore it must be as Daisy prefers, and whatever the young lady's personal appearance may be, she must be voted 'plain Miss Atherley !'" He wasn't long in ordering round the dog-cart, and soon the mare was rattling as hard as she could go. But there was little Tommie Jobling to be .seen: the cottage was on his way, and it wouldn't take him a minute. However, poor little Tommy had taken a turn for the worse, and many minutes were passed at his bedside before the doctor managed to ease the pain; then when the little lad was more comfortable he threw himself into his trap once more, and put on all possible speed. A thin white line of smoke in the distance caught his eye. Ah 1 He was in plenty of time; the goods train was just clearing for the express, so there was no hurry. He flung the reins to the groom and made his way to the platform: there would be at least ten minutes to wait—time enough for a cigarette. But as he plunged his hand into his pocket for his cigarette case a glimpse of a vision at the far end of. the long platform held him spell-bound. Daisy! What a joyful surprise! He didn't know she was in the neighbourhood. But no doubt she was on her way south, and found herself quite by chance at Wellfield: it was a busy junction. The treat of a few unexpected moments of her society would be balm indeed after his difficulties. He could tell her all about that will, and that ward, too, and get it off his mind before the stranger arrived.

It Avas far better than having to -write it all to her. .

A few long strides brought him beside her, and she looked up into his face with a lovely blush. " Dick 1" she cried. " Ah, this is good of you indeed! I don't mind this tiresome journey now in the least." " And you are on your way to—where?" asked he, after a few ecstatic moments. " Oh—home," she cried, after a pause. "Homer' he said, easily. Alter all, he hadn't mentioned the other girl: her bare existence had gone out of his head, during those blissful moments with Daisy, and he was glad now. Daisy would be gone before she arrived, so why waste the precious moments discussing a stranger? There was no need to worry. "Have you any luggage, sir?" an obsequious porter broke rudely in on their tete-a-tete.

"Luggage? No!" scowled the doctor. "Where do you suppose I came from?— Idiot," he added to Daisy, "the man knows I haven't been away." "Beg pardon, sir. I thought the young lady came by the four-ten express, and perhaps "

"The four-ten? Why, it isn't in yet, man! Don't you know the train's late?" "No, sir, she was up to time sharp, and the young lady " "Yes, I came by the express," interrupted Daisy, timidly. "You did! Then what about the other girl!" •

"The other girl!" Daisy's blue eyes looked dangerous. "Thank goodness, she hasn't come at all!" ejaculated the doctor, preparing to tuck his sweetheart's hand under his arm. But she drew back haughtily. "I don't understand you!" freezingly. "You have evidently an appointment with another lady?" "Good lord, Daisy! Let me explain. Give me time, dearest, and I'll show you it's all square and fair?" "I fancy it will take time," sententiously.

"The fact is," stammered the doctor, "the appointment -was made by her lawyer. I am to meet a young woman who wears a red frock—l mean a blue frock—and a red parasol, and—and—l'm sure she's as ugly as sin!" he wound up desperately, "and I don't care a hang if I never see her at all."

Then an incomprehensible thing happened.

- Daisy suddenly unfurled a scarlet sunshade, and, retiring behind it, give way to fits of uncontrollable laughter. "If you think it's funny, T don't," said the doctor crossly; "and look here, Daisjr "

"Oh!" she gasped. "A blue frock and a red parasol, as ugly as sin, and—you don't care if you never see her again!" "Have you nearly done?" he demanded stiffly. "No," she laughed. "Oh, Dick, don't you see that the description fits me exactly?" and with that she handed him an official-looking envelope bearing no address.

"But where's the joke, and why the mystery?" "I don't know. I only know that I was informed this morning that my name is not Daisy Armilage at all, but Margaret Atherley-, and that my eccentric guardian had preferred to keep this little fact to himself till I was of age, and that I was without fail to appear at this station by • the train mentioned, and to present this letter to the gentleman who met me, when I should hear of something to my advantage. There!" "A blue frock and a red parasol," murmured Dr Dick mistily. 'And a face as ugly as . Oh, Dick! I didn't think it of you!" "My darling!" "That's all very well, but what am I to hear?" "Come to the refreshment room," he said hurriedly. "That gaping porter has had benefit enough." "And so you're a rich woman after all, Daisy!" "And your ward!" "I suppose so. I'm in honour bound to give you back your promise, dear,"- he said huskily, "but I am afraid you will have to accept the conditions and live under my roof till you are married." "I suppose so. But, Dick ? " and she crept nearer, a coaxing smile on her pretty, tremulous lips, "you won't turn me out afterwards, will you, dear?"