appeared decidedly interested.

"It's possible that in the fall you may have some one else besides me
to look after," he confided to her in explanation.

"It's to be soon, sir?" she asked eagerly.

"In September, perhaps," he admitted.

"It would please your father, sir," she answered excitedly. "It's
lonesome it's been for you, sir."

He did not answer, but he thought about that a little. No, it had not
been exactly lonesome for him--not lately. That was because he was
looking ahead. That was it.

"It hasn't seemed quite natural for you to be living on here alone,
sir," she ventured.

"Dad lived here alone," he reminded her.

"Not at your age, sir," answered Nora.

From that moment there was much ado in the house. Don came home at
night to find certain rooms draped in dusting clothes, later to appear
as fresh and immaculate as if newly furnished. This gave him a great
sense of responsibility. He felt married already. He came downtown in
the morning a little more serious, and took hold of his work with
greater vigor.

The next few weeks passed rapidly. Frances had finished her trip to
Scotland and was on her way back to London. She was to sail in a few
days now. He cabled her to let him know when she started, and three
days later she answered. He showed her reply to Miss Winthrop.

Sail Monday on the Mauretania, but Dolly wants me to spend next two
weeks after arrival in the Adirondacks with her.

Miss Winthrop returned the cable with a none too steady hand.

"She mustn't do that," she said firmly.

"Of course she mustn't," he agreed. "You see, she doesn't know she is
to be married right away. Do you think I ought to cable her that?"

"I don't think I would," Miss Winthrop replied. "But I would let her
know I didn't approve of her arrangement."

"Supposing I just say, 'Have other plans for you'?"

"That would do," she nodded.

So he sent her this message, and that evening at dinner Miss Winthrop
spoke to him of another matter.

"I don't think you have shown much attention to her parents this
summer. Oughtn't you to see them and let them know what you intend?"

"Tell Stuyvesant?" he exclaimed.

"Why should he object?" she asked.

"I don't know as he will. Then again he might. You see, I've never
told him just how Dad tied things up."

"What difference does that make?" she demanded. "With the house and
what you're earning, you have enough."

"It isn't as much as he expects a man to give his