With the gloom of one relinquishing life's greatest prize George said,
"I suppose I mustn't." He added, "I tell you what, though. You mustn't
interfere with this. I'll save it up for him. The day I take you out
and marry you I'll pull him out--and pay him."

They parted upon the promises that Mary would write that evening to
tell him of the result of her interview with Mrs. Chater, and that, in
the especial circumstances, he might come to see her in the Park for
just two minutes on Monday morning.

And each went home, thinking, not of that portending interview with
Mrs. Chater, but upon the love they had declared.




CHAPTER IV.

Events And Sentiment Mixed In A Letter.



I.

At ten o'clock that night Mary took up her pen.

"First, my dear, to tell you that it is all right. I may stay. I had
lunch with the children in the nursery, and just as we had finished a
maid came to say that Mrs. Chater would see me in the study. Down I
crawled, wishing that I was the heroine of a novel who would have