ld act at their own discretion. She would not
hurry them," and hoping to see more of Miss Worthington to-morrow, she
bowed good-night, and left the doctor alone with 'Lina.

"In the name of the people, what are you sitting up for?" was 'Lina's
first remark when she went upstairs, followed by a glowing account of
what Dr. Richards had said, and the delightful time she'd had. "Only
play our cards well, and I'm sure to go home the doctor's _fiancee_.
Won't Ellen Tiffton stare when I tell her, mother?" and 'Lina spoke in a
low tone. "The doctor thinks I'm very rich. So do all the people here.
Lulu has told that I'm an heiress; now don't you upset it all with your
squeamishness about the truth. Nobody will ask you how much I'm worth,
so you won't be compelled to a lie direct. Just keep your tongue between
your teeth, and leave the rest to me. Will you?"

There was, as usual, a feeble remonstrance, and then the weak woman
yielded so far as promising to keep silent was concerned.

Meantime the doctor sat in his own room nearby, thinking of 'Lina
Worthington, and wishing she were a little more refined.

"Where does she get that coarseness?" he thought. "Not from her mother,
certainly. She seems very gentle and ladylike. It must be from the
Worthingtons," and the doctor wondered where he had heard that name
before, and why it affected him rather unpleasantly, bringing with it
memories of Lily. "Poor Lily," he sighed mentally. "Your love would have
made me a better man if I had not cast it from me. Dear Lily, the mother
of my child," and a tear half trembled in his eyelashes, as he tried to
fancy that child; tried to hear the patter of the little feet running to
welcome him home, as they might have done had he been true to Lily;
tried to hear the baby voice calling him "papa;" to feel the baby hands
upon his face--his bearded face where the great tears were standing now.
"I did love Lily," he murmured; "and had I known of the child I never
could have left her. Oh, Lily, my lost Lily, come back to me, come!" and
his arms were stretched out into empty space, as if he fain would
encircle again the girlish form he had so often held in his embrace.

It was very late ere Dr. Richards slept that night, and the morning
found him pale, haggard and nearly desperate. Thoughts of Lily were
gone, and in their place was a fixed determination to follow on in the
course he had marked out, to find him a rich wife, to cast remorse to
the winds