luggage,
and I have to plan pretty closely accordingly."

"That's good for you. You don't know the first thing about curtailing
your desires, and he means to teach you. Perhaps he won't limit you as to
how much you bring home."

"I hope not. We shall stop for a week in Paris before we sail, and I mean
to bring you the loveliest evening frock you've had in a long time. It's
no use forbidding me, for I shall do it just the same."

"I'm not going to forbid you," laughed Charlotte Ruston, with her cheek
against the furry hat. "I know when not to forbid people to do things
I want them to do. Only make it blue, my blue, and have a touch of silver
on it, and I'll wear it and think of you with adoration."

"It's a bargain," and Ellen went away smiling, with the image of
Charlotte in the sort of blue-and-silver gown she meant to bring her,
effacing for the moment the other image of Charlotte in a blue cotton
house-dress on a freezing winter morning, in a chilly house.

A few days later the travellers were off. When Red Pepper Burns and Ellen
came in to say good-bye in the early evening they found the little house
as warm as even the most solicitous person could desire, and both the
elder and the younger inmate looking so rosy and happy that doubts of
their continued welfare seemed unreasonable. Charlotte, expecting them,
was wearing a picturesque, if old and oft-rejuvenated, trailing frock of
dull-rose silk, whose effect was to heighten the already splendid colour
in her face. It gave her also a certain air of grand lady which seemed
hers by right, whether in the dignified old drawing-room Ellen remembered
in the Ruston house, or in this small apartment, illumined by fire and
candle-light, and graced by a little old lady in cap and kerchief of fine
lace. There were flowers on the table under the candles, and a tray with
delicate glasses and a plate of little cakes. Altogether, the whole
atmosphere of the room was so comfortably hospitable, and the charm of
Charlotte's gay manner so convincing, that both her guests went away with
the pleasant sense that they left real home happiness under the patched
shingles of the roof, and contentment greater than that found beside most
hearths.

"Remember that James Macauley has promised to be a brother to you in
my absence, and will see you through any difficulty that may arise,"
declared Burns, shaking hands. "Arthur Chester claims the same privilege
and both will be only too happy to