unwelcome attentions appeared to be responsible for the late engagement.

"Well, it's over now," said her uncle, kindly, "and no doubt he'll soon
find somebody else. There are plenty of girls would jump at him, I
expect."

Miss Garland shook her head.

"He said he couldn't live without me," she remarked, soberly.

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?"