bundle, he softly unfolded the tissue-paper, slipped something from his
newly possessed breast pocket into the handkerchief-case, and refolded the
paper. He crossed the room to where the doctor was standing, and handed
him the parcel, with the remark, "Dat's for youse, from Miss Constance an'
me, doc." Then scurrying back to the side of the girl, he confided to her,
"Ise guv de doc a present, too."

"What was it?" asked Constance, still not looking up.

"Go an' ask 'im," chuckled Swot.

Turned away as she might be, she was not unconscious of the doctor's
movements, and she was somewhat puzzled when, instead of coming to her
with thanks, he crossed the room to a bay-window, where he was hidden by
the tree from both of them. From that point he still further astonished
her by the request,--

"Can you--will you please come here for a moment, Miss Durant?"

Constance rose and walked to where he stood. "I hope you like my gift?"
she asked.

"You could have given me nothing I have so wanted--nothing I shall
treasure more," said the man, speaking low and fervently. "But did you
realise what this would mean to me?" As he spoke, he raised his hand, and
Constance saw, not the handkerchief-case, but a photograph of herself.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Where--I didn't--that was a picture I gave to Swot. The
case is my gift,"