"That's the way in the melodramas, you see, and you are very like the
hero of a five-act melodrama. Well, Mr. Walraven, decide what I shall
call you!"

"Suppose you say guardian. That will hit the mark, I think. And we
will tell people who ask troublesome questions that you are the orphan
daughter of a dead cousin of mine. What do you say?"

"As you please, of course. It is all one to me."

The train thundered into the depot presently, and there was the usual
turmoil and uproar. Mr. Walraven called a cab, and half an hour's
rattling over the stony streets brought them to the Walraven mansion.

Mollie Dane, accustomed all her life to dingy hotels and lodgings,
glanced up at the grand staircase and imposing hall in rapturous
surprise. Mme. Walraven stood graciously waiting to receive her.

"Here's a granddaughter for you, mother," said Mr. Walraven--"a
companion to cheer and brighten your future life. My adopted
daughter--Mollie Dane."

The stately old lady bent and kissed the bright, fresh face.

"I am very happy to welcome you, my dear, and will try heartily to make
your new home pleasant. You are tired, of course? Here, Margaret, show
Miss Dane to her room."

A spruce waiting-maid appeared at the old lady's summons, and led