t dreadful Mr. Cranley sent her to me under a false
name. It was not _her_ fault. The question is, What was her reason for
keeping her real name concealed?"

"That's what I'm coming to," said Barton. "I have a friend, a Mr.
Maitland."

"Mr. Maitland of St. Gatien's?" asked the widow.

"Yes."

"I know him."

"Yes, I have often heard him speak of you," said Barton. "Well, he had
a _protegee_--a kind of ward, to tell a long story in few words--a girl
whom he had educated, and whom he was under some kind of promise to
her father to marry. The father died suddenly; the girl disappeared
mysteriously from school at the same moment; and Maitland, after many
efforts, has never been able to find out anything about her. Now, this
girl's name, this girl in whom my friend was interested, was Margaret
Shields. That is the very name by which your friend, Miss Harman, called
Margaret. So, you see, even if I am right, and if she _does_ care for
me, what a dreadful position I am in! I want to marry the girl to whom
my friend is, more or less, engaged! My friend, after doing his best to
find his ward, and after really suffering a great deal of anxiety and
annoyance, is living abroad. What am I to say to him?"

"Mr. Barton," said Mrs. St John Deloraine, "perhaps you alarm yourself
too much. I think"--here she dropped her voice a little--"I think--I
don't think Mr. Maitland's _heart_ is very deeply concerned about Miss
Shields. I may be wrong, but I know him pretty well"--she gave a little
nervous laugh--"and I don't think he's in _love_ with Margaret."

By the time she reached the end of this interrupted and tentative
discourse Mrs. St. John Deloraine was blushing like a rose in June.

Barton felt an enormous weight lifted from his heart, and a flood of
welcome light poured into his mind. The two philanthropists were in love
with each other!

"He's an awfully good fellow, Maitland," he replied. "But you are
right; I'm _sure_ you are right. You must know. He is _not_ in love with
Margaret."

Mrs. St. John Deloraine seemed not displeased at the tribute to
Maitland's unobtrusive virtues, and replied:

"But he will be very glad to hear that she is found at last, and quite
safe; and I'll write to him myself, this very evening. I heard from
him--about a charity, you know--a few days ago, and I have his address."

By this time they had reached the carriage. Janey, with many embraces,
tore herself from Margaret, and went off with he