appily vouchsafed us," deplored Aunt
Betty sorrowfully, "I greatly fear that Bellevieu will be lost."

"Mr. Van Zandt wrote, however," encouraged Dorothy, "that it would be
well worth while for us to go to England, and that personally
presenting myself might 'achieve results otherwise unattainable.' You
see, I have remembered his words."

"I am determined upon that," responded Aunt Betty, "and I am arranging
that we shall go within a month after we get back east. I have a
little surprise for you, too. Molly Breckenridge is going also. The
judge has arranged for her expenses."

The reader, who would wish to still further follow the fortunes of our
heroine will find in "Dorothy in England," a volume of startling
interest and sweet sentiment.

Dorothy was most appreciative of her aunt's thoughtfulness, and
now she unburdened her mind of her secret. She told her of her
strong regard for Jim, of his expressed love for her, and of her
own inability to just exactly determine if her feelings were the
equivalent of his. She wished for Jim every happiness, and she shared
in his ambitions. They had had a difference, and she was most unhappy,
and yet there was an intangible something that restrained her from
seeking a reconciliation.

The good, motherly woman, who was her confessor, knew perhaps better
than the girl herself, the strength of her regard for Jim, and knew
that the heart's promptings are seldom influenced. With this wisdom
for a guide, she counselled wisely and satisfyingly. Time, and right
doing, would remedy and set square all that was untoward.

Folded in each other's arms in harmony of feeling, they were suddenly
broken in upon by Alfy.

"What do you think," she cried. "You told me to get out your light
traveling dress. You had not worn it since that day of the fire in New
York, and what do you think!" she excitedly repeated, "in the fold of
the skirt I found this!" and she held forth the long missing locket.

So it unquestionably was. The gown had been put away, and in the folds
of the skirt had been caught, and so long retained, the locket.

A word more and our story ends. The journey east was uneventful. At
Baltimore, Aunt Betty and the girls said good-bye to Mr. Ludlow and
Mr. Dauntrey. Ruth was to visit a day at Bellevieu and then go on with
Alfy to New York.

THE END.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
ev