ssed."

The special ardour possessing Gaston at that moment belonged to the
order of the communicative, but perhaps the vividness with which the
waiter placed this exhibition of it before the young lady is better
explained by the fact that her lover slipped a five-franc piece into his
hand. She at any rate entered his place of patience sooner than Gaston
had ventured to hope, though she corrected her promptitude a little by
stopping short and drawing back when she saw how pale he was and how he
looked as if he had been crying.

"I've chosen--I've chosen," he said expressively, smiling at her in
denial of these indications.

"You've chosen?"

"I've had to give them up. But I like it so better than having to give
YOU up! I took you first with their assent. That was well enough--it was
worth trying for. But now I take you without it. We can live that way
too."

"Ah I'm not worth it. You give up too much!" Francie returned. "We're
going away--it's all over." She averted herself quickly, as if to carry
out her meaning, but he caught her more quickly still and held her--held
her fast and long. She had only freed herself when her father and sister
broke in from the salon, attracted apparently by the audible commotion.

"Oh I thought you had at least knocked over the lamp!" Delia exclaimed.

"You must take me with you if you're going away, Mr. Dosson," Gaston
said. "I'll start whenever you like."

"All right--where shall we go?" that amiable man asked.

"Hadn't you decided that?"

"Well, the girls said they'd tell me."

"We were going home," Francie brought out.

"No we weren't--not a wee mite!" Delia professed.

"Oh not THERE" Gaston murmured, with a look of anguish at Francie.

"Well, when you've fixed it you can take the tickets," Mr. Dosson
observed with detachment.

"To some place where there are no newspapers, darling," Gaston went on.

"I guess you'll have hard work to find one," Mr. Dosson pursued.

"Dear me, we needn't read them any more. We wouldn't have read that
one if your family hadn't forced us," Delia said to her prospective
brother-in-law.

"Well, I shall never be forced--I shall never again in my life look at
one," he very gravely declared.

"You'll see, sir,--you'll have to!" Mr. Dosson cheerfully persisted.

"No, you'll tell us enough."

Francie had kept her eyes on the ground; the others were all now rather
unnaturally smiling. "Won't they forgive me ever?" she asked, looking
up.