"Isn't that enough? I am Mavis Keeves. I am--"

"What?" he interrupted.

"I didn't like to confess it before. Don't, please don't think very
badly of me."

"YOU--little Mavis after all?"

"Yes," she answered softly.

"What wonderful, wonderful luck! I can't believe it even now. You
little Mavis! How did it all come about?"

"It's simple enough."

"Simple!" He laughed excitedly. "You call it simple?"

"Let me tell you. I was very miserable to-day and I prayed and--and-
-"

She could say no more; her overcharged feelings were such that they
got the better of her self-control. Careless of what he might think,
she leaned against him, as if for protection--leaned against him to
weep bitter-sweet, unrestrained tears upon his shoulder.

"Poor little girl! Poor little Mavis!" he murmured.

The remark reinforced her tears.