here, neither shall I."

"Now you are talking rot, Harry," said Ranald, and sat down again to his
desk. Harry went out in a state of dazed astonishment. Alone Ranald sat
in his office writing steadily except that now and then he paused to let
a smile flutter across his stern, set face, as a gleam of sunshine over
a rugged rock on a cloudy day. He was listening to his heart, whose
every beat kept singing the refrain, "I love her, I love her; she will
come to me!"

At that very moment Maimie was showing her Aunt Murray her London
dresses and finery, and recounting her triumphs in that land of social
glory.

"How lovely, how wonderfully lovely they are," said Mrs. Murray,
touching the beautiful fabrics with fond fingers; "and I am sure they
will suit you well, my dear. Have you worn most of them?"

"No, not all. This one I wore the evening I went with the Lord Archers
to the Heathcote's ball. Lord Heathcote, you know, is an uncle of
Captain De Lacy."

"Was Captain De Lacy there?" inquired Mrs. Murray.

"Yes, indeed," cried Maimie, "and we had a lovely time!" either the
memory of that evening brought the warm blushes to her face, or it may
be the thought of what she was about to tell her aunt; "and Captain De
Lacy is coming to-morrow."

"Coming to-morrow?"

"Yes, he has written to Aunt Frank, and to papa as well."

Mrs. Murray sat silent, apparently not knowing what to say, and Maimie
stood with the dress in her hands waiting for her aunt to speak. At
length Mrs. Murray said: "You knew Captain De Lacy before, I think."

"Oh, I have known him for a long time, and he's just splendid, auntie,
and he's coming to--" Maimie paused, but her face told her secret.

"Do you mean he is going to speak to your father about you, Maimie?"
Maimie nodded. "And are you glad?"

"He's very handsome, auntie, and very nice, and he's awfully well
connected, and that sort of thing, and when Lord Heathcote dies he has a
good chance of the estates and the title."

"Do you love him, Maimie?" asked her aunt, quietly.

Maimie dropped the dress, and sitting down upon a low stool, turned her
face from her aunt, and looked out of the window.

"Oh, I suppose so, auntie," she said. "He's very nice and gentlemanly
and I like to be with him--"

"But, Maimie, dear, are you not sure that you love him?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Maimie, petulantly. "Are you not pleased,
auntie?"

"Well, I confess I am surprised. I do not know Captain De L