it outright,' her husband reminded
her.

'Oh well, business is business; but now that I know those two Misses
Wharton I feel glad the furniture is still theirs, though what good
it'll do them now or ever--unless some duke comes along and marries Miss
Stella for her pretty face--I don't know.'

'The money I pay for hire will do them good'--Mr. Jones was paying fifty
pounds a year--'and it needn't be a duke. I'd not mind her for a
daughter myself.'

'Pray don't put such ideas into Jamie's head; not that she would not be
a good wife, for she's a good girl, but she'd never look at a Jones. And
if that's your plan, I'm sorry she ever came to town, for it will only
upset Jamie. I do hope he won't fall in love with her!' cried Jamie's
mother in alarm.

'Who spoke of Jamie? The girl's up here to earn her living, and has no
idea of love-making, thank goodness! As for Jamie, he's all right, and
can look after himself at his age, I should hope. I only meant that I'd
like as ornamental a wife for him when he reigns up there as I've got to
face me,' said Mr. Montague Jones gallantly. Then in the bustle of
home-coming and the joy of meeting the aforementioned Jamie, the
Whartons were banished as subjects of conversation, although a little
later their name cropped up in connection with their property and other
matters.

The Whartons themselves never mentioned their late hosts. London in the
dusk, with its brilliant lights, its roar of traffic, and its hurrying
crowds, claimed their attention.

'Oh Stella, it's awful--just awful!' cried Vava, clinging to her
sister's arm in alarm.

'See, there is a park in front of us; let us go in there; it will be
quieter,' replied Stella, as she pressed Vava's arm and hurried her over
the crossing into Hyde Park, in which direction they had fortunately
strayed.

Vava drew a great breath of relief as they began to cross the park
diagonally. 'Thank goodness! I can breathe here, and needn't be looking
all the time to see where those horrid, screechy motors are coming to,
tearing along as they do,' she said, quite forgetful of the fact that
she herself had not many hours before been tearing along in one of these
same 'horrid motors.'

It was January, and the air was cold, but the Highland girls did not
mind that, and took such a long walk, turning and twisting in the park,
so as to avoid the streets, that they were tired out when they reached
their lodgings. They slept soundly, and the nex