ster.

"Certainly," said Pere Michaux. "Erastus can not marry yet; he must go
through college, and afterward establish himself in life."

"They could be married next spring," suggested Miss Lois: "we could help
them at the beginning."

"Young Pronando is less of a man than I suppose, if he allows any one
save himself to take care of his wife," said Pere Michaux,
sententiously.

[Illustration: TITA LISTENING.]

"Of course I shall not," said Rast, throwing back his handsome head with
an air of pride.

"That is right; stand by your decision," said the priest. "And now let
us have tea. Enough has happened for one day, I think, and Rast must go
at dawn. He can write as many letters as he pleases, but in real life he
has now to show us what metal he is made of; I do not doubt but that it
will prove pure ore."

Dr. Gaston sat silent; he drank his tea, and every now and then looked
at Anne. She was cheerful and contented; her eyes rested upon Rast with
confidence; she smiled when he spoke as if she liked to hear his voice;
but of consciousness, embarrassment, hesitation, there was not a trace.
The chaplain rubbed his forehead again and again, and pushed his wig so
far back that it looked like a brown aureole. But if he was perplexed,
Miss Lois was not; the happy old maid supplied all the consciousness,
archness, and sentimental necessities of the occasion. She had kept them
suppressed for years, and had a large store on hand. She radiated
romance.

While they were taking tea, Tita entered, languid and indifferent as a
city lady. No, she did not care for any tea, she said; and when the
boys, all together, told her the great news, she merely smiled, fanned
herself, and said she had long expected it.

Miss Lois looked up sharply, with the intention of contradicting this
statement, but Tita gazed back at her so calmly that she gave it up.

After Pere Michaux had left her in the hall, she had stolen to the back
door of the sitting-room, laid her ear on the floor close to the crack
under it, and overheard all. Then, trembling and silent, she crept up to
her own room, bolted the door, and, throwing herself down upon the
floor, rolled to and fro in a sort of frenzy. But she was a supple,
light little creature, and made no sound. When her anger had spent
itself, and she had risen to her feet, those below had no consciousness
that the ceiling above them had been ironed all over on its upper side
by the contact of a fierce li