er thought of what you will do when you get there?"

"I suppose I shall have to go to France," said Mimi; "but why should
you think of going to Boston? Are you not going on your family
business?"

"I am not," said Claude. "I am only going because you are going. As
to my family business, I have forgotten all about it; and, indeed, I
very much doubt whether I could do anything at all. I do not even
know how I am to begin. But I wish to see you safe and happy among
your friends."

Mimi looked at him in sad surprise.

"I do not know whether I have any friends or not," said she. "I have
only one relative, whom I have never seen. I had intended to go to
her. I do not know what I shall do. If this aunt is willing to take
me, I shall live with her; but she is not very rich, and I may be a
burden."

"A burden!" said Claude; "that is impossible! And besides, such a
great heiress as you will be welcome wherever you go."

He spoke this with a touch of bitterness in his voice; for Mimi's
supposed possessions seemed to him to be the chief barrier between
himself and her.

"A great heiress!" said Mimi, sadly. "I don't know what put that into
your head. Unfortunately, as far as I know, I have nothing. My papa
sold all his estates, and had all his money on board the Arethuse. It
was all lost in the ship, and though I was an heiress when I left
home, I shall go back nothing better than a beggar, to beg a home
from my unknown aunt. Or," she continued, "if my aunt shows no
affection, it is my intention to go back to the convent of St.
Cecilia, where I was educated, and I know they will be glad to have
me; and I could not find a better home for the rest of my life than
among those dear sisters who love me so well."

"O, Mimi," he cried, "O, what joy it is to hear that you are a
beggar! Mimi, Mimi! I have always felt that you were far above
me--too far for me to raise my thoughts to you. Mimi, you are a
beggar, and not an heiress! You must not go to France. I will not go.
Let us remain together. I can be more to you than any friend. Come
with me. Be mine. O, let me spend my life in trying to show you how I
love you!"

He spoke these words quickly, feverishly, and passionately, seizing
her hand in both of his. He had never called her before by her name;
but now he called her by it over and over, with loving intonations.
Mimi had hardly been prepared for this; but though unprepared, she
was not offended. On the contrary, she looke