Mr. Mott laughed.

"In less than three months I expect he'll be congratulating himself," he
said, cheerfully. "Why, I was nearly cau--married, four times. It's a
silly age."

His niece said "Indeed!" and, informing him in somewhat hostile tones
that she was suffering from a severe headache, retired to her room.

Mr. Mott spent the evening by himself, and retiring to bed at ten-thirty
was awakened by a persistent knocking at the front door at half-past one.
Half awakened, he lit a candle, and, stumbling downstairs, drew back the
bolt of the door, and stood gaping angrily at the pathetic features of
Mr. Hurst.

"Sorry to disturb you," said the young man, "but would you mind giving
this letter to Miss Garland?"

"Sorry to disturb me!" stuttered Mr. Mott. "What do you mean by it? Eh?
What do you mean by it?"

"It is important," said Mr. Hurst. "I can't rest. I've eaten nothing
all day."

"Glad to hear it," snapped the irritated Mr. Mott.

"If you will give her that letter, I shall feel easier," said Mr. Hurst.

"I'll give it to her in the morning," said the other, snatching it from