t quite by accident. After her
day's work was over she liked to walk the roads with her baby, dressed
in her prettiest finery, with an eager, hopeful eye out for passing
vehicles. On one of these rambles she happened into the lane which
passed the haunted ravine, and there, concealed by the drooping branches
of a willow beside the road, she had discovered a deserted automobile.

It aroused her curiosity. What could an automobile be doing in that
unfrequented lane, and where was the owner of it? Fearfully she entered
the ravine, and ventured a few steps toward the green tangle that hid
the ruined cabin. When she came in sight of it, panic conquered
curiosity, and she turned to run. It was very dark and hushed there in
the underbrush.

But one of the young dogs, who had followed her, suddenly pricked up his
ears and nosed his way to the cabin's threshold, where he paused with
one foot lifted, making violent demonstrations with his tail. Mag
followed him, reassured.

"A dog would have too much sense to wag hisself at ghosts," she
thought....

No wonder it was still in the ravine. Birds passing overhead forbore to
sing, out of sheer sympathy. The great trees stood tiptoe, guarding with
finger on lip the love-dream of the little human creature who had played
so long about their feet, and whose playing days were done. Mag and the
young dog were silent, too, and would have gone softly away from the
place where they were not wanted.

"Miss Jacky's got her a fella!" whispered Mag enviously to herself.
"Ain't that grand?"

But the baby in her arms had as yet no conception that there might be
places in the world where she was not wanted; poor little waif who had
been unwanted anywhere! She recognized her usual companion wrapped in
the arms of a strange man, and cooed inquiringly.

The lovers jumped apart.

"Oh!--It's only you, Mag!" gasped Jacqueline. "I thought Jemmy had
caught us at last!..."

So it happened that Mag was elevated to the position of confidante; not
a very wise confidante, but a very proud and trustworthy one, eager to
help her Miss Jacky to happiness, such as she conceived the term--a
"fella" to love her and give her presents, which might or might not
include a wedding-ring.

She was pressed into willing service, carrying notes, arranging
meetings, mounting guard watchfully, thrilled with eager sympathy, and
dreaming a little on her own account; sordid, pathetic dreams they were,
in which, alas! the