d.

"You told me you didn't want your aunt any more," said she.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Don't you remember? I'm Mary Milton. If you'd lived in your own
country, instead of gadding about in foreign ones, you'd know who Mary
Milton is without asking--at least, you would if you ever read _The New
York Meteor_."

"I suppose this is a dream, and that I shall wake up," said I. "I slept
very badly last night."

"Don't call for help under the impression that it's a nightmare," said
my late aunt, twinkling.

"I have the impression that it's a vision," I answered. "But if you
don't explain yourself instantly, I shall die in the dream--of heart
failure."

"There's no great mystery," said Miss Milton. "I didn't particularly
want to disguise myself, but you advertised for an aunt, and as it's
difficult for a girl to make herself look middle-aged, I had to look
_old_. That's all, except that your advertisement came in very handy,
because--as you'd know if you were a patriotic American--Mary Milton's
an enterprising and rather celebrated young journalist making it her
business to go round the world for her paper without spending a penny of
her own. That was the understanding on which _The Meteor_ started and
'boomed' me; for it was my own idea. I wanted to see things, and I
hadn't money enough--so I went to call on the editor, and--I talked to
him, till he was quite fired with the project. _The Meteor_ has given me
a good send-off, and I've given it good copy. My adventures--as they
look in print--have been sensational, and, I believe, popular. I've been
at it for two years, and all America has read me, if you haven't. I've
done all the countries of Europe, now. Holland was the last, and I
seemed stuck on the threshold till I saw your advertisement. It couldn't
have suited better--except for the blue glasses and the wig. But one
can't have everything as one likes it. I've enjoyed the tour immensely,
thanks to you; and so have the readers of _The Meteor_. I'm afraid
I've teased you a good deal, and spent a lot of your pennies; but it
_was_ fun! And you shall have your presents all back--every one of them.
Heaps of money will be waiting for me from my paper when I get home to
New York. They're delighted with my work; and then I intend to send you
a check for all that you've paid me to be your aunt. I would rather,
_really_; and only keep one little thing to remember you by,
perhaps--and our days together."

"Did you always