out what you'd think of it.
But now that I see you're willing to sign the papers, what I want to
know is, where will I be likely to find Miss Croup?"

Mrs. Cliff laughed. "You are very prompt," said she, "and I think you
will find Willy in the little parlor. She was sewing there when I saw
her last."

In less than a minute Mr. Burke stood before Willy Croup in the little
parlor. "Miss Croup," said he, "I want to ask you something."

[Illustration: WILLY SAT AND LOOKED AT HIM]

"What is it?" said Willy, letting her work drop in her lap.

"Miss Croup," said he, "I heard you swear once, and I never heard
anybody swear better, and with more conscience. You did that swearing
for me, and now I want to ask you if you will be willing to swear for me
again?"

"No," said Willy, her cheeks flushing as she spoke, "no, I won't! It was
all very well for you to tell me that I didn't do anything wrong when I
talked in that dreadful way to Mr. Maxwell, and for you to get the
ministers to tell me that as I didn't understand what I was saying, of
course there was no sin in it; but although I don't feel as badly about
it as I did, I sometimes wake up in the night and fairly shiver when I
think of the words I used that day. And I've made up my mind, no matter
whether ships are to be sunk or what is to happen, I will never do that
thing again, and I don't want you ever to expect it of me."

"But, William Croup," exclaimed Mr. Burke, forgetting in his excitement
that the full form of her Christian name was not likely to be masculine,
"that isn't the way I want you to swear this time. What I want you to do
is, to stand up alongside of me in front of a minister and swear you'll
take me for your loving husband to love, honor, and protect, and all the
rest of it, till death do us part. Now, what do you say to that?"

Willy sat and looked at him. The flush went out of her cheeks, and then
came again, but it was a different kind of a flush this time, and the
brightness went out of her eyes, and another light, a softer and a
different light, came into them. "Oh! Is that what you want?" she said,
presently. "I wouldn't mind that."

THE END

* * * * *

Novels and Short Stories

BY

FRANK R. STOCKTON

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, Publishers, New York

"Of Mr. Stockton's stories what is there to say, but that they are an
unmixed blessing and delight? He is surely one of the most inventive of
talen