also was to be there. He arrived early, unknowing even the name of his
rival. He concealed himself among the flowers in the conservatory,
pacing up and down the fragrant, embowered walks with hasty step and
anxious heart. How fondly memory roved back over the jewelled past,
glistening with departed joys; how fearfully imagination strove to
penetrate the gloomy future; how tremblingly did he await the bursting
storm of the blackened present.

The guests had arrived, and Marion was summoned to the drawing-room.
With jealous care he had dressed himself in a fireman's costume made of
rich materials, which wonderfully became him, that it might remind May
what he had dared for her, and what had rendered them so dear unto each
other. He stood with folded arms, his eyes fixed upon May Edgerton,
scarcely daring to glance at the stranger. Suddenly he lifted his eves
to the pale face of his rival, which was bowed towards the floor.

"Walter!" he cried.

"Marion!" was the startled response.

"Choose, May! choose between us!" exclaimed Marion, with glistening eyes
and extended hand.

"With your leave, Mr. Cunningham," she said joyfully, speaking to
Walter, but placing her hand in that of Sherwood.

"Man proposes, God disposes." A weight was lifted from Cunningham's
heart. While abroad, negligent of his promise to his parents, he had
woed and won a lovely girl to whom he had been privately married a few
weeks before setting sail for home, with the promise of a speedy return.