you all through, and this thing does not alter my love.
You see, Florence," he added, "it was not the girl who was famous that I
cared for. I never did care a bit about the wonderful writing which was
supposed to be yours. Far from liking it, I hated it. I never wanted a
wife who would be either famous or clever."

"And Tom Franks," continued Florence, "only wants me because he thinks
me clever. But he will not wish to marry me now."

"I only wanted you for yourself. Will you wait for me and let me try to
make a home for you, and when I have done that, will you come to me? I
am going away to Australia; I have heard of a good post there, and I am
going out almost at once, and if things succeed, you and the mother can
come to me, and in the meantime will you stay with her and comfort her?"

"Oh, you are too good," said poor Florence; but she did not cry now. She
clasped her hands and gazed straight into the fire; then she looked up
at Trevor with awe.

"God must have forgiven me when He sent you to me," she said simply.

The next moment he had clasped her in his arms.

CHAPTER XLVI.

A DENOUEMENT.

Tom Franks was seated before his desk in his office. He was a good deal
perturbed. His calm was for the time being destroyed, although it wanted
but a week to his wedding-day. He did not look at all like a happy
bride-groom.

"It is a case of jilting," he said to himself, and he took up a letter
which he had received from Florence that morning. It was very short and
ran as follows:

"I cannot marry you, and you will soon know why. When you know
the reason you won't want me. I am terribly sorry, but sorrow
won't alter matters. Please do not expect the manuscript. Yours
truly,

"FLORENCE AYLMER."

"What does the girl mean?" he said to himself. "Really, at the present
moment, the most annoying part of all is the fact that I have not
received the manuscript. The printers are waiting for it. The new number
of the _Argonaut_ will be nothing without it. The story was advertised
in the last number, and all our readers will expect it."

A clerk came in at that moment.

"Has Miss Aylmer's manuscript come, sir?" he said. "The printers are
waiting for it."

"The printers must wait, Dawson; I shall be going to see Miss Aylmer and
will bring the manuscript back. Here, hand me a telegram form. I want to
send a wire in a hurry."

The clerk did so. Franks dictated a few words aloud: "Will ca