ned and the face of Mr. Carter was
thrust in. "What have you come back for?"

The other stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him.
"I have come back," he said, slowly--"I have come back because I feel
ashamed of myself."

"Ashamed of yourself?" repeated Mr. Evans, rising and confronting him.

Mr. Carter hung his head and gazed nervously in the direction of the
girl. "I can't keep up this deception," he said, in a low but distinct
voice. "I am Bert Simmons. At least, that is the name I told you four
years ago."

"I knew I hadn't made a mistake," roared Mr. Evans to his son. "I knew
him well enough. Shut the door, Jim. Don't let him go."

"I don't want to go," said Mr. Carter, with a glance in the direction of
Nancy. "I have come back to make amends."

"Fancy Nancy not knowing him!" said Jim, gazing at the astonished Miss
Evans.

"She was afraid of getting me into trouble," said Mr. Carter, "and I just
gave her a wink not to recognize me; but she knew me well enough, bless
her."

"How dare you!" said the girl, starting up. "Why, I've never seen you
before in my life."

"All right, Nan," said the brazen Mr. Carter; "but it's no good keeping
it up now. I've come back to act fair and square."

Miss Evans struggled for breath.

"There he is, my girl," said her father, patting her on the back. "He's
not much to look at, and he treated you very shabby, but if you want him
I suppose you must have him."

"Want him?" repeated the incensed Miss Evans. "Want him? I tell you
it's not Bert. How dare he come here and call me Nan?"

"You used not to mind it," said Mr. Carter, plaintively.

"I tell you," said Miss Evans, turning to her father and brother, "it's
not Bert. Do you think I don't know?"

"Well, he ought to know who he is," said her father, reasonably.

"Of course I ought," said Mr. Carter, smiling at her. "Besides, what
reason should I have for saying I am Bert if I am not?"

"That's a fair question," said Jim, as the girl bit her lip. "Why should
he?"

"Ask him," said the girl, tartly.

"Look here, my girl," said Mr. Evans, in ominous accents. "For four
years you've been grieving over Bert, and me and Jim have been hunting
high and low for him. We've got him at last, and now you've got to have
him."

"If he don't run away again," said Jim. "I wouldn't trust him farther
than I could see him."

Mr. Evans sat and glowered at his prospective son-in-law as the
di