ays--?"

"He says so. He said he was desperately in love with you."

"Why, Lois--!" began Mrs. Lancaster, with the color mounting to her
cheeks. "Well, he has gotten bravely over it," she laughed.

"He has not. He is in love with you now," the young girl said calmly.

Mrs. Lancaster turned and faced her with her mouth open to speak, and
read the girl's sincerity in her face. "With me!" She clasped her hands
with a pretty gesture over her bosom. A warm feeling suddenly surged to
her heart.

The younger woman nodded.

"Yes--and, oh, Mrs. Lancaster, don't treat him badly!" She laid both
hands on her arm and looked at her earnestly. "He has loved you always,"
she continued.

"Loved me! Lois, you are dreaming." But as she said it, Alice's heart
was beating.

"Yes, he was talking to me one evening, and he began to tell me of his
love for a girl,--a young girl,--and what a part it had played in
his life--"

"But I was married," put in Mrs. Lancaster, seeking for further proof
rather than renouncing this.

"Yes, he said she did not care for him; but he had always striven to
keep her image in his heart--her image as she was when he knew her and
as he imagined her."

Mrs. Lancaster's face for a moment was a study.

"Do you know whom he is in love with now?" she said presently.

"Yes; with you."

"No--not with me; with you." She put her hand on Lois's cheek
caressingly, and gazed into her eyes.

The girl's eyes sank into her lap. Her face, which had been growing
white and pink by turns, suddenly flamed.

"Mrs. Lancaster, I believe I--" she began in low tones. She raised her
eyes, and they met for a moment Mrs. Lancaster's. Something in their
depths, some look of sympathy, of almost maternal kindness, struck her,
passed through to her long-stilled heart. With a little cry she threw
herself into the other's arms and buried her burning face in her lap.

The expression on the face of the young widow changed. She glanced down
for a moment at the little head in her lap, then bending down, she
buried her face in the brown tresses, and drew her form close to
her heart.

In a moment the young girl was pouring out her soul to her as if she had
been her daughter.

The expression in Alice Lancaster's eyes was softer than it had been for
a long time, for it was the light of self-sacrifice that shone in them.

"You have your happiness in your hands," she said tenderly.

Lois looked up with dissent in her eyes.

Mrs