suddenly arose, retiring to the
far corner of the room, where they held an excited, whispered
consultation. Presently they came back and sat down in the same solemn
half-circle. Aunt Sarah ceremoniously cleared her throat.

"You will please to unclasp your hands and sit farther apart," she
directed. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Mr. Nelson--"

"Melton, if you please," corrected the young man, producing a business
card that he had rescued.

"Oh!" exclaimed the aunts, exchanging wondering glances.

"We understood that it was Nelson," murmured Aunt Matilda. It seemed
that the hands had not been so tightly clasped over the ears as he had
thought.

Aunt Sarah gravely adjusted her glasses.

"'John Melton, Jr.,'" she read. "'Representing Melton and Melton,
Administrators and Real Estate Dealers. General John A. Melton. John
Melton, Jr.'"

There was a suppressed flutter of excitement and again the three aunts
exchanged surprised glances.

"I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Ann and Matilda, that this
quite alters the case?" was Aunt Sarah's strange query.

"Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Matilda, complacently smoothing her
apron.

"Very much so," added Aunt Ann.

"Decidedly," resumed Aunt Sarah. "Your father, young man, handled the
estate of our deceased Uncle Peter in a most upright and satisfactory
fashion--for a man. So far, much is in your favor, since our unfortunate
niece will not be contented without some sort of a husband. Your
personal qualifications have yet to be proved, however. We presume that
you can offer documentary evidence as to your own worth, sir?"

"Not for a day or so, unfortunately," confessed the young man. "The dogs
destroyed all my papers. The only thing I could find was a portion of a
brief note from my mother."

The three aunts, as by one electric impulse, bent forward with shining
eyes.

"From your mother!" hungrily repeated Aunt Sarah. "Let us see it, if you
will, please."

He produced it reluctantly. It was not exactly the sort of letter a
young man cares to parade.

"'My beloved son,'" Aunt Sarah read aloud, pausing to bestow a softened
glance upon him. "'I can not wait for your return to say how proud I am
of you. Your noble and generous action in regard to the aged widow
Crane's property has just come to my ears, through a laughing complaint
of your father about your unbusinesslike methods in dealing with those
who have been unfortunate. In spite of his whims