one girl in the world in his eyes.

But Gertrude divined what Denys had meant to say, and with a light
laugh she went away to wash her sticky hands. She was not going to
have Reggie Alston thrown at her. Reggie was all very well and Reggie
might mean Love, but Reggie would not mean Money.

Turning to see what had become of Gertrude, Denys caught sight of
Pattie's interested face.

"I've got a young man, Miss Denys," she said importantly, "he's such
a nice, steady young man, Miss, your Mr. Henchman just reminds me
of him, and he's just as fond of me as anything, but"--her face
fell--"he's not very well off, Miss, not at all, and--and--well! it's
rather a pity, as Miss Gertrude's been saying, to marry poor."

"Oh, Pattie!" said Denys earnestly, "don't say that. If you love one
another, you can be so happy even if you are poor. If he is steady and
nice, that is much more important than being rich."

But Pattie's shake of the head was only the echo of Gertrude's words.

"Love _and_ Money. Love _and_ Money." "It's all very well for _you_ to
talk."

CHAPTER III.

A GREAT BIG SHAME.

"It's a shame! that's what it is, a downright shame," cried a woman's
voice angrily, "and it's just like you, Jim Adams, to put upon a poor
woman so. As if I had not enough trouble with one child, and you want
to bring your sister's brat here. I never heard of such a thing."

Jim Adams stood with his broad back turned towards her, and he made no
reply.

"Yes! much you care!" she scolded, "but I tell you, Jim Adams, I won't
do it! You can write and tell your precious sister she can make other
arrangements. You are married now and you can't do just as you like;
you've got a wife, and I won't do it! There! you've waked the baby,
shouting at me about your sister; but I won't have anybody else's
child, so there!"

The lusty crying from the adjoining room continuing, she went in,
banging the door behind her, and Jim was left alone, staring doggedly
out at the tall houses opposite.

Should he write to his dying sister at Whitecliff and tell her to make
other arrangements? What other arrangements could she make? Could she
bring back her young sailor husband from his grave in the Red Sea?
Could she stay the progress of the cough, the outward sign of the
fatal sickness which was bringing her to an early death? Could she
send the child, her treasured little boy, to any other relative? Jim
knew she could not. Nellie and he had been al