was seen no more.

"I love you, I love you," he said huskily.

"So I gather," she answered in a feeble voice.

"Do you care for me?" he asked.

"It would seem that I must, Alan, otherwise I should scarcely--oh! you
foolish Alan," and heedless of her Sunday hat, which never recovered
from this encounter, but was kept as a holy relic, she let her head fall
upon his shoulder and began to cry again, this time for very happiness.

He kissed her tears away, then as he could think of nothing else to say,
asked her if she would marry him.

"It is the general sequel to this kind of thing, I believe," she
answered; "or at any rate it ought to be. But if you want a direct
answer--yes, I will, if my uncle will let me, which he won't, as you
have quarrelled with him, or at any rate two years hence, when I am five
and twenty and my own mistress; that is if we have anything to marry
on, for one must eat. At present our worldly possessions seem to consist
chiefly of a large store of mutual affection, a good stock of clothes
and one Yellow God, which after what happened last night, I do not think
you will get another chance of turning into cash."

"I must make money somehow," he said.

"Yes, Alan, but I am afraid it is not easy to do--honestly. Nobody
wants people without capital whose only stock in trade is a brief but