from her cousin Henrietta Cooney that Carlisle had
got most of her facts, at a recent coming-to-supper while Hugo was away.

Canning, listening, was glancing about him. Having made an adventurous
run to-day by way of the old Spring Tavern,--he had plotted it out
himself, with maps and blue-books,--they had reentered the city by the
back door as it were, and now spun over unaccustomed streets.

"I didn't know you went in for charity, my dear."

"Oh, a cousin of mine is drumming up funds for this, you see...."

Not clearly understanding it herself, how could she explain the impulse
which had led her to offer Hen, without being dunned at all, her royal
subscription? Perhaps she had a vague feeling that this would prove, to
the complete satisfaction of the public, that she and her family were
far from being shameless homicides, dead to all benevolent works. It
appeared that mamma had already subscribed fifteen dollars to the
Settlement, on personal solicitation of Mr. Dayne, but of course you
could not prove anything much for fifteen dollars.

Hugo, having turned to look at Carlisle, lost interest in Settlements.
His gaze became fixed, and it said, plainer than ardent print, that, if
he had many possessions, here was far the best and dearest of them....

"Where's that ripping little hat you wore yesterday? You know--a brown
one, sort of a toque, I suppose--all old rose inside?"

"Why, Hugo!... Don't you like this hat _extremely_?"

"Rather! Only, if there is a choice, I do think I'd vote for the
toque.... You've gone and spoiled me by giving away how you can look
when you try."

Carlisle laughed merrily. She was glad to have her lover so observant of
what she wore, even though he did not know nearly so much about clothes
as he imagined.

"It's not a toque at all," said she, "but I'll wear it for you
to-morrow, provided you promise me now to run away from that tiresome
secretary and come to lunch."

"Done! At one-thirty o'clock."

"That's the exact luncheon hour, as it happens, but I notice that many
of the best fiances make it a practice to report for duty at least half
an hour before the gong. It _looks_ so much better."

"Running and eating's no better than eating and running, you allege.
There's some small merit in the contention.... What of those sterling
fiances who punch the time-clock a full hour before the whistle?"

"Oh, dear me, Hugo, are there any like that?"

"There's but one now in captivity,