or, thinks I to myself, 'Thank the Lord, Leonore
Stubbs is out of Jock's way'."

Leonore was out of everybody's way, it seemed,--or it might have been
that she had ceased to be beguiling. People who met her during the next
year of her life, found a quiet young girl--she still looked very
young--with rather an interesting countenance; but if drawn thereby to
prosecute her acquaintance, they tried to engage her in their pursuits
and pleasures, they were disappointed. She did not respond to buoyant
propositions; games and pastimes did not attract her; they thought she
did not know how to flirt.

In short she was dull, and rather tiresomely devoted to her half-sister,
whom no one thought of inviting to join in youthful escapades--so after
a time Leo was not invited either.

This was a trouble to Sue, and one day she made a suggestion. Was there
any use in remaining in London, if the life there was not in accordance
with either of their tastes? If Leo no longer cared for society--though
she owned she thought that a pity at her age--and here the speaker
paused.

"I don't--at present," owned Leo, frankly. "I may again--some
time,"--but to herself she wondered, would that some time ever come?

Then news came from America, sad news, which put all other thoughts
aside for the moment. A child had been born, but its birth had cost the
mother her life, and the next cable announced that poor Val had lost his
little son also. He was begged to return home, and assured of welcome
and maintenance there,--but to the surprise of all replied evasively. He
would see how matters were by-and-by; he could not bring himself to move
just yet.

The next letter expatiated on the wonderful beauty and climate of
California, and the kindness and hospitality of friends, who had carried
him off for a trip, to distract his thoughts.

Again another letter was full of nothing but these friends. Poor simple
Val had not the art of concealment, and long before he knew himself, the
sisters knew what to expect. He had been "most awfully sad and lonely,"
and he "would never forget Maud,"--but he had found a dear girl who
reminded him of her, and (here the pen had raced) by the time dear Sue
and Leo received the letter, he would be married to the richest heiress
in California. A newspaper followed, announcing that the ceremony had
actually taken place.

"So we need not go out to Val," said Leo, with a smile.

She and Sue were wandering hither and thith