ough, that is exactly what they did; and they are there
yet. And their establishment in the American colony is the headquarters
for all nobility in exile, including the chivalrous Orleans.

Which is one sort of justice--the Lansing sort; and, anyway, Coursay
survived and married an actress a year later. And the club still remains
in undisturbed possession of Eileen Lansing's land; and Major Brent is
now its president.

As for Munn, he has permanently retired to Munnville, Maine, where, it
is reported, he has cured several worthy and wealthy people by the
simple process of prayer.

ONE MAN IN A MILLION

I

"Do you desire me to marry him?" asked Miss Castle, quietly.

"Let me finish," said her uncle. "Jane," he added, turning on his
sister, "if you could avoid sneezing for a few moments, I should be
indebted to you."

Miss Jane Garcide, a sallow lady of forty, who suffered with colds all
winter and hay-fever all summer, meekly left the room.

Miss Castle herself leaned on the piano, tearing the pink petals from a
half-withered rose, while her guardian, the Hon. John Garcide, finished
what he had to say and pulled out his cigar-case with decision.

"I have only to add," he said, "that James J. Crawford is one man in a
million."

Her youthful adoration of Garcide had changed within a few years to a
sweet-tempered indifference. He was aware of this; he was anxious to
learn whether the change had also affected her inherited passion for
truthfulness.

"Do you remember a promise you once made?" he inquired, lighting his
cigar with care.

"Yes," she said, calmly.

"When was it?"

"On my tenth birthday."

He looked out of the heavily curtained window.

"Of course you could not be held to such a promise," he remarked.

"There is no need to _hold_ me to it," she answered, flushing up.

Her delicate sense of honor amused him; he lay back in his arm-chair,
enjoying his cigar.

"It is curious," he said, "that you cannot recall meeting Mr. Crawford
last winter."

"A girl has an opportunity to forget hundreds of faces after her first
season," she said.

There was another pause; then Garcide went on: "I am going to ask you to
marry him."

Her face paled a trifle; she bent her head in acquiescence. Garcide
smiled. It had always been that way with the Castles. Their word, once
given, ended all matters. And now Garcide was gratified to learn the
value of a promise made by a child of ten.

"I wonder,"