s his long-lost
son-in-law."

The reasonings set forth in these propositions were so evidently correct
that Roseleaf resolved to adopt them just as soon as he could bring
himself into the proper mood. In the meantime, however, he wanted to
have a little further talk with Daisy, for he could hardly ask her
father for her hand without the semblance of permission on her part. He
tried to remember all she had said to him at the foot of the lawn, and
was compelled to admit that it was very little indeed. The only things
he was certain of were the kisses, but his experiences were so slight
that he could not tell how much weight to give even these.

That evening he tried his best to get a word with her alone, but she
eluded him, and he was obliged to go to the boudoir of her sister and
read over that young lady's MSS. as it stood revised by his careful
hands.

"Well, another chapter will finish it," said Miss Fern, when he put down
the pages. "And then Mr. Gouger will decide whether Cult & Slashem
consider it worth printing."

"Yes," he answered, gravely. "They will print _your_ story now, without
doubt. But _I_ am as far as ever from satisfying their requirements."

Millicent thought how supremely selfish she must seem, talking always of
her own hopes and doing nothing to help the one who had made her success
possible. She saw that he wore a dejected look, and she began to
sincerely pity him. When our own ships are safely in sight of the
harbor we have more time to dwell on the derelicts in which the property
of our friends is embarked.

"Perhaps, when we get this disposed of, I can help you," she suggested.

It was nearly a week before Roseleaf could get another talk with Daisy,
a week that tried him to the utmost, for he could think of nothing but
her, and could not understand her reasons for treating him so strangely.
At last he wrote her a letter, giving it to Hannibal to deliver, in
which he said that he was about to return to his city lodging and wanted
to know if she meant him to leave without a kind word at parting. He
thought the negro looked peculiar as he took the note, half as if he did
not intend to accept the commission to deliver it; but he concluded that
this must be imagination. He wondered why Archie Weil took such a fancy
to Hannibal. If Roseleaf was lucky enough to claim Daisy as his wife, he
would never have that figure darken his door.

The letter must have been taken to its destination without