ign that
FLORA should follow him to the supplementary room indicated; his
low-spirited manner being as though he had said: "If you wish to look at
the body, miss, I will now show you the way."

Leaving the Gospeler lost in dark abstraction near the black mantel, the
Flowerpot allowed the sexton of the establishment to conduct her
funereally into the place assigned for her interview, and stopped aghast
before a huge black object standing therein.

"What's this?" she gasped, almost hysterically.

"Only a safe," said Mr. BENTHAM, with inexplicable bitterness of tone.
"Merely our fire-and-burglar-proof receptacle for the money constantly
pouring in from first-class American Comic journalism."--Here Mr.
BENTHAM slapped his forehead passionately, checked something like a sob
in his throat, and abruptly returned to the main office.

Scarcely, however, had he closed the door of communication behind him,
when another door, opening from the hall, was noiselessly unlatched, and
MAGNOLIA PENDRAGON glided into the arms of her friend.

"FLORA!" murmured the Southern girl, "I can scarcely credit my eyes! It
seems so long since we last met! You've been getting a new bonnet, I
see."

"It's like an absurd dream!" responded the Flowerpot, wonderingly
caressing her. "I've thought of you and your poor, ridiculous brother
twenty times a day. How much you must have gone through here! Are they
wearing skirts full, or scant, this season?"

"About medium, dear. But how do you happen to be here, in Mr. BENTHAM'S
office?"

In answer to this question, FLORA related all that bad happened at
Bumsteadville and since her flight from thence; concluding by warning
MAGNOLIA, that her possession of a black alpaca waist, slightly worn,
had subjected her to the ominous suspicion of the Ritualistic organist.

"I scorn and defy the suspicions of that enemy of the persecuted South,
and high-handed wooer of exclusively Northern women!" exclaimed Miss
PENDRAGON, vehemently. "Is this Mr. BENTHAM married?"

"I suppose not."

"Is he visiting any one?"

"I shouldn't think so, dear."

"Then," added MAGNOLIA, thoughtfully, "if dear Mr. DIBBLE approves, he
might be a friend to MONTGOMERY and myself; and, by being so near us,
protect us both from Mr. BUMSTEAD. Just think, dear FLORA, what heaps of
sorrow I should endure, if that base man's suspicion about my alpaca
waist should be only a pretence, to frighten me into ultimately
receiving his addresses."