ered to the
floor. Mrs. Anderson gasped, Lizzie stared, and the messenger boy
politely picked it up and returned it to Martha. It was a hundred-dollar
bill.

"Is dere any answer, lady?" inquired 109 stolidly.

Martha hesitated. She looked at the envelope again, then looked at the
piece of paper which had enclosed the hundred-dollar bill.

"No," she said simply. "Yes--wait a second."

The boy paused at the door, and Martha whispered a few words into his
ear. "Do you understand?" she asked.

"Betcher life," cried 109. "I'm on, lady, I'm on." And with a merry
whistle and another wink at the excited Aunt Jane, 109 made a dignified
and breezy exit, followed by the surprised Lizzie.

[Illustration: "MORE FLOWERS AND FROM A MAN I HAVE NEVER SPOKEN TO."]

"Well," said Mrs. Anderson, grimly, sitting with her arms folded, "I'm
waiting."

"Waiting for what, Aunt Jane?" inquired Martha.

"For an explanation of this extraordinary scene. Who sent you that
money, and what do you intend to do with it?"

Martha half laughed at her earnestness.

"I can't tell you just now, Aunt Jane," she said.

"But I must know. When Mr. Clayton brought you to me, he asked me to
look out for you, and I mean to do so."

"And so you have. You've been everything that you could be, dear and
thoughtful, but it's got so I'm the laughing-stock of the entire
company. I daren't take a step out of this house but you must be fully
informed about everything I do and everywhere I go."

"Mr. Clayton wishes to know."

"If Mr. Clayton wishes to know, why doesn't he come and ask me? He
hasn't been here more than twice in the past four months. Am I to blame
if I wish some innocent amusement? He never thinks of me, and when some
one else does seem to take an interest in my affairs, and show me a
little attention, am I to blame if I like it?"

"You are to blame for accepting hundred-dollar bills."

"But I haven't accepted them yet. I haven't been able to return them
before this--"

"What? There were others?"

"For the past six weeks a messenger boy has brought me a note every
Saturday. Each letter contained a hundred-dollar bill."

"Great heavens!" Aunt Jane collapsed on the sofa. "And wasn't there any
name signed to the letters?"

"Only the words 'From your unknown admirer.' I could not return the
money, for I didn't know his name--until now. This letter I have just
received gives his name."

"Who is it, dearie?" inquired Aunt Jane, confidenti