l
and prosperous. I saw your advertisement in the _Times_ newspaper and
was pleased to hear from you. Henry sends to you his kindest regards and
duties.

"Your loving sister,
"ANNIE."

"Of course, it is not much to go on," he said apologetically, folding
the letter up and replacing it in his pocket. "I suppose Great Bradley
has had a constant procession of Annies, but at any rate it is
something."

"It is indeed," she smiled.

"It means quite a lot to me, or at least it did," he corrected himself.
"I had an arrangement with your uncle, which was approved by the other
trustees of the estate. It means a tremendous lot," he repeated. There
was some significance in his tone and she looked up to him quickly.

"In money?" she asked.

"In other things," he said, lowering his voice. "Doris, I have not had
an opportunity of saying how sorry I am about the will; it is hateful
that you should be forced by the wishes of your guardian to take a step
which may be unpleasant to you."

She coloured a little and turned her eyes away.

"I--I do not want to take advantage of that wish," he went on awkwardly.
"I want you to be happy. I want you to come to me for no other reason
than the only one that is worth while; that you have learned to care for
me as I care for you."

Still she made no response and he sighed heavily.

"Some day," he said, wistfully, "I had hoped to bring in my hands all
the material advantages which a man can offer to the woman he loves."

"And do you think that would make a difference?" she asked quickly.

"It would make this difference," he replied, in the same quiet tone,
"that you could not think of me as one who loved you for your fortune,
or one who hoped to gain anything from the marriage but the dearest,
sweetest woman in the world."

The eyes which she turned upon him were bright with unshed tears.

"I do not know how I feel, Frank," she said. "I am almost as much a
mystery to myself as I must be to you. I care for you in a way, but I am
not sure that I care for you as you would like me to."

"Is there anybody else?" he asked, after a pause.

She avoided his glance, and sat twining the cord of her sunshade about
her fingers.

"There is nobody else--definitely," she said.

"Or tentatively?" he insisted.

"There are always tentative people in life," she smiled, parrying his
question. "I think, Frank, you stand as great a