m when he
could gloat on her unseen. Then he had no need to make up an artificial
face and hide his adoration from her.

But soon a cloud came over his face and his paternal heart. He knew she
had a lover; and she looked like a girl who was waiting pensively for
him. She had not come there for him whom she knew only as her devoted
friend. At this thought the poor father sighed.

Mary's quick senses caught that, and she turned her head, and her sweet
face beamed.

"You _are_ there, after all, Mr. Hope."

Hope was delighted. Why, it was him she had come to see, after all. He
came down to her directly, radiant, and then put on a stiff manner he
often had to wear, out of fidelity to Bartley, who did not deserve it.

"This is early for you to be out, Miss Bartley."

"Of course it is," said she. "But I know it is the time of day when you
are kind to anybody that comes, and mend all their rubbish for them, and
I could kill them for their impudence in wasting your time so. And I am
as bad as the rest. For here I am wasting your time in my turn. Yes, dear
Mr. Hope, you are so kind to everybody and mend their things, I want you
to be kind to me and mend--my prospects for me."

Hope's impulse was to gather into his arms and devour with kisses this
sweet specimen of womanly tenderness, frank inconsistency, naivete,
and archness.

As he could not do that, he made himself extra stiff.

"Your prospects. Miss Bartley! Why, they are brilliant. Heiress to all
the growing wealth and power around you."

"Wealth and power!" said the girl. "What is the use of them, if our
hearts are to be broken? Oh, Mr. Hope, papa is so unkind. He has
forbidden me to speak to him." Then, gravely, "That command comes
too late."

"I fear it does," said Hope. "I have long suspected something."

"Suspected?" said Mary, turning pale. "What?"

"That you and Walter Clifford--"

"Yes," said Mary, trembling inwardly, but commanding her face.

"Are--engaged."

Mary drew a long breath. "What makes you think so?" said she,
looking down.

"Well, there is a certain familiarity--no, that is too strong a word; but
there is more ease between you than there was. Ever since I came back
from Belgium I have seen that the preliminaries of courtship were over,
and you two looked on yourselves as one."

"Mr. Hope," said this good, arch girl, and left off panting, "you are
a terrible man. Papa is eyes and no eyes. You frighten me; but not
very much, for you