, to pet her, to smooth her grayish hair and pat her cheek, and
get her to talk about her girlhood days. She was so happy that tears
were in her eyes half the time. At nine o'clock there was a pull at the
bell that threatened to drag the wire out, and an insignificant little
urchin appeared with a telegram, which frightened Miss Forsythe, and
seemed to Margaret to drop out of heaven. Such an absurd thing to do
at night, said the aunt, and then she kissed Margaret, and laughed a
little, and declared that things had come to a queer pass when people
made love by telegraph. There wasn't any love in the telegram, Margaret
said; but she knew better--the sending word of his arrival was a
marvelous exhibition of thoughtfulness and constancy.

And then she led her aunt on to talk of Mr. Henderson, to give her
impression, how he looked, what she really thought of him, and so on,
and so on.

There was not much to say, but it could be said over and over again in
various ways. It was the one night of the world, and her overwrought
feeling sought relief. It would not be so again. She would be more
reticent and more coquettish about her lover, but now it was all so new
and strange.

That night when the girl went to sleep the telegram was under her
pillow, and it seemed to throb with a thousand messages, as if it felt
the pulsation of the current that sent it.

The prospective marriage of the budding millionaire Rodney Henderson
was a society paper item in less than a week--the modern method of
publishing the banns. This was accompanied by a patronizing reference to
the pretty school-ma'am, who was complimented upon her good-fortune in
phrases so neatly turned as to give Henderson the greatest offense, and
leave him no remedy, since nothing could have better suited the journal
than further notoriety. He could not remember that he had spoken of
it to any one except the Eschelles, to whom his relations made the
communication a necessity, and he suspected Carmen, without, however,
guessing that she was a habitual purveyor of the town gossiper.

"It is a shameful impertinence," she burst out, introducing the subject
herself, when he called to see her. "I would horsewhip the editor." Her
indignation was so genuine, and she took his side with such warm good
comradeship, that his suspicions vanished for a moment.

"What good?" he answered, cooling down at the sight of her rage. "It is
true, we are to be married, and she has taught schoo