ather to be happy, don't you,
dear?" he asked, after a little.

Then Maria began to sob in good earnest. She threw her arms around
her father's neck. "Yes, father, I do want you to be happy," she
whispered, brokenly.

"If father's little girl were large enough to keep his house for him,
and were through school, father would never think of taking such a
step," said Harry Edgham, and he honestly believed what he said. For
the moment his old love of life seemed to clutch him fast, and Ida
Slome's radiant visage seemed to pale.

"Oh, father," pleaded Maria. "Aunt Maria would marry you, and I would
a great deal rather have her."

"Nonsense," said Harry Edgham, laughing, with a glance towards the
door.

"Yes, she would, father; that was the reason she got her pompadour."

Harry laughed again, but softly, for he was afraid of Aunt Maria
overhearing. "Nonsense, dear," he said again. Then he kissed Maria in
a final sort of way. "It will be all for the best," he said, "and we
shall all be happier. Father doesn't think any the less of you, and
never will, and he is never going to forget your own dear mother; but
it is all for the best, the way he has decided. Now, good-night,
darling, try to go to sleep, and don't worry about anything."

It was not long before Maria did fall asleep. Her thoughts were in
such a whirl that it was almost like intoxication. She could not seem
to fix her mind on anything long enough to hold herself awake. It was
not merely the fact of her father's going to marry again, it was
everything which that involved. She felt as if she were looking into
a kaleidoscope shaken by fate into endless changes. The changes
seemed fairly to tire her eyes into sleep.

The very next afternoon Aunt Maria went home. Harry announced his
matrimonial intentions to her before he went to New York, and she
said immediately that she would take the afternoon train.

"But," said Harry, "I thought maybe you would stay and be at
the--wedding, Maria. I don't mean to get married until the November
vacation, and it is only the first of September now. I don't see why
you are in such a hurry."

"Yes," replied Aunt Maria, "I suppose you thought I would stay and
get the house cleaned, and slave here like a dog, getting ready for
you to be married. Well, I sha'n't; I'm tired out. I'm going to take
the train this afternoon."

Harry looked helplessly at her.

"I don't see what Maria and I are going to do then," said he.

"If i