rdiality itself to the man whom he had greeted
with but cool civility on the Rhine. "I feel ready for anything," said
he, "and am going back at once. Cary and Elmendorf go with me, but Flo
and her aunt want to stay awhile in Paris. Look them up, will you, if
you go there?--Hotel Lafond." Forrest promised. He was going to Metz
and Luxembourg on the way, and purposed spending only a few days in the
capital. He found the ladies packing and almost ready to start. Once
again he crossed the Atlantic in Miss Allison's company, and this time,
though there might have been Hubbards and other gallants aboard, she had
no use for them. It was Mr. Forrest's figure her eye sought the moment
she came on deck, Forrest's arm on which she leaned in the joyous,
exhilarating tramps on the breezy promenade. Every woman on board except
Aunt Lawrence believed her engaged to him before they were half-way
over, and would have sworn to it at Sandy Hook. Anything more blissful,
gladsome, confident than her manner at first could hardly be described,
but when it presently began to give way to something half shy, half
appealing, almost tender,--when long silences and down-drooping lashes
replaced the ceaseless prattle and frankly uplifted eyes,--then there
was little room for doubt in Aunt Lawrence's mind that Flo had flung
herself away.

"Well, I wash my hands of it," said the pious lady. "It was Fate and her
father. He deliberately threw them together again after my warning. Now
I suppose he'll have to do something for him, for if Flo loves the man
she'll marry him if he hasn't a penny beyond his pay,--which he probably
hasn't. There ought to be a law against such things."

But never a confession or confidence did Flo have to offer. The ladies
spent a week in New York before going West. Mr. Forrest went on about
his business. It was when he met them at Chicago and calmly escorted
them from their state-room on the Limited to their waiting carriage that
Aunt Lawrence felt the time had come for her to speak; and speak she did
the moment Mr. Forrest had closed the carriage door, raised his hat, and
was left behind.

"Has that young man asked you to marry him, Florence?"

And Florence burst into tears.

From having been a bitter opponent of the possibility, Mrs. Lawrence
from this moment veered squarely around. A month agone she would have
resented his daring to speak of such a thing. Now she raged at his
daring not to. Here they were home again at