s morning his fate was to be
positively decided; he would take a position that would allow of no
postponement; he would tell her plainly that a statement that she was
not prepared to give him an answer that day would be considered by him
as a final rejection. She must haul down her flag or he would surrender
and present to her his sword.

Claude Locker saw nothing of Miss Asher, but it was not long before the
lady of the house came down-stairs.

"Oh, Mr. Locker," she exclaimed, "I am so glad to see you! Come into the
library, please."

He hesitated a minute. "I beg your pardon," said he, "but I have an
appointment--"

"I know that," said she, "and you may be surprised to hear that it is
with me and not with Miss Asher. Come in and I will tell you about it."

Claude Locker actually ran after his hostess into the library, both of
his eyes wide open.

"And now," said she, "please sit down, and hear what I have to say."

Locker seated himself on the edge of a chair; he did not feel happy; he
suspected something was wrong.

"Is she sick?" he asked. "Can't she come down?"

"She is very well," was the reply, "but she is not here. She is with her
uncle."

"Then I am due at her uncle's house before one o'clock," said he.

"No," she answered, "you are due here."

He fixed upon her a questioning glance.

"Miss Asher," she continued, "has deputed me to give you her answer. She
can not come herself, but she does not forget her agreement with you."

The young man still gazed steadfastly. "If it is to be a favorable
decision," said he, "I hope you will be able to excuse any exuberance of
demeanor on my part."

Mrs. Easterfield smiled. "In that case," she said, "I do not suppose I
should have been sent as an envoy."

His brow darkened, and instinctively he struck one hand with the other.
"That is exactly what I expected!" he exclaimed. "The signs all pointed
that way. But until this moment, my dear madam, I hoped. Yes, I had
presumed to hope that I might kindle in her heart a little nickering
flame. I had tried to do this, and I had left but one small match head,
which I intended to strike this day. But now I see I had a piece of the
wrong end of the match. After this I must be content forever to stay in
the cold."

"I am glad you view the matter so philosophically," said Mrs.
Easterfield, "and Olive particularly desired me to say--"

"Don't call her Olive, if you please," he interrupted. "It is like
speaking to