ween Auntie Sue and her
old pupil.

Placing the dear old lady tenderly in a deep, leather-upholstered chair,
Mr. Ward stood before her as though trying to convince himself that
she was real; while his teacher of those long-ago, boyhood days gazed
smilingly up at him.

"What in the name of all that is unexpected are you doing here, Auntie
Sue?" he demanded; "and why is not Betty Jo with you? Isn't the girl
ever coming home? There is nothing the matter with her, is there? Of
course not, or you would have wired me."

It was not at all like the bank president to ask so many questions all
at once.

Auntie Sue looked around the private office curiously, then smilingly
back to the face of the financier.

"Do you know, Homer," she said with her chuckling little laugh,
"I--I--am almost afraid of you in here. Everything is so grand and
rich-looking; and there were so many men out there who tried to tell me
you would not see me. I--I am glad I didn't know it would be like this,
or I fear I never could have found the courage to come."

Homer T. Ward laughed, and then--rather full-waisted as he was--went
down on one knee at the arm of her chair so as to bring his face level
with her eyes.

"Look at me, Auntie Sue," he said; "look straight through me, just as
you used to do years and years ago, and tell me what you see."

And the dear old lady, with one thin soft hand on his heavy shoulder,
answered, as she looked: "Why, I see a rather naughty boy, whom I ought
to spank for throwing spitballs at the old schoolroom ceiling," she
retorted. "And I am not a bit afraid to do it either. So sit right over
there, sir, and listen to me."

They laughed together then; and if Auntie Sue wiped her eyes as the
schoolboy obediently took his seat in the big chair at the banker's
desk, Homer T. Ward's eyes were not without a suspicious moisture.

"Tell me about Betty Jo first," the man insisted. "You know, Auntie Sue,
the girl grows dearer to me every year."

"Betty Jo is that kind of a girl, Homer," Auntie Sue answered.

"I suppose it is because she is all I have to love," he said, "but, you
know, ever since Sister Grace died and left the fatherless little kid
to me, it seems like all my plans have centered around her; and now that
she has finished her school; has travelled abroad, and gone through with
that business-college course, I am beginning to feel like we should sort
of settle down together. I am glad for her to be with you th