it
was, of course, nonsense. He would bind her to himself with the most
solemn of promises, and the very day she was of age they would be
married. As he walked toward his humble lodgings he amused himself by
thinking what he should do when he became master of Hanton Hall. No
sentiment troubled Allan Lyster; he could make love in any style he
liked to anyone who suited him. As to any remorse over the girl his
sister had betrayed and they had both deceived, he felt none.

"How do you like him, Marion?" asked Adelaide Lyster, as the two walked
home.

"He is very handsome and very clever," was the grave reply.

"Add to that--he is more deeply in love than any man ever was yet," said
Miss Lyster, laughingly. "Marion, he worships you--his love is something
that frightens me."

Miss Arleigh avowed that it was true.

"He will go home," continued Adelaide, "and instead of going to sleep
like a sensible man, he will walk about all night, composing grand poems
about you."

"Does he write poetry?" asked Marion, with increased admiration.

"He is a poet and artist both," said his sister, with a little touch of
pride that amused the heiress.

That was Miss Arleigh's first interview with her admirer, the second
was, he assured her, for the sake of the picture--the third, that he
might see how the picture was going on--the fourth, that she might see
it completed--the fifth, because she found the flattery of his love so
irresistible she could no longer do without it--the sixth, because she
began to fall in love with him herself--and then she lost all count, she
lived for those interviews, and nothing else.

"I want to impress one thing upon you," said Adelaide to her brother;
"bear it always in mind. When you think you have made sufficient
advances in her favor to ask her to marry you, do not rest satisfied
with her spoken word, make her write it. It will be of no use to you
unless you do that."

"Explain a little further, my wisest of sisters," said Allan.

"A written promise of marriage is the only security a man has. Women
change like the wind, without rhyme or reason. But if you have her own
word pledged to you, her promise of marriage written so that there shall
be no mistake, then it will be worth a fortune to you."

"Even if she should refuse to fulfil"--

"You are not very worldly wise, Allan," said his sister with the
slightest tinge of contempt in her voice. "If she fulfils it, all well
and good. The very fact