cularly_
engaged. Good-bye, and thank you."

So saying, Miles shook the puzzled old gentleman heartily by the hand,
and hurried back to his anchorage in the hall.

"I've done it, mother!" whispered Miles, two days thereafter, in the
privacy of the Institute reading-room.

"Miles!" said the startled lady, with a reproachful look, "I thought you
said that nothing would induce you--"

"Circumstances have altered, mother. I have had a long consultation
with your `kind little lawyer,' and he has related some interesting
facts to me."

Here followed a detailed account of the facts.

"So, you see, I went and proposed at once--not to the lawyer--to
Marion."

"And was accepted?"

"Well--yes. I could hardly believe it at the time. I scarcely believe
it now, so I'm going back this afternoon to make quite sure."

"I congratulate you, my darling boy, for a good wife is God's best gift
to man."

"How do you know she is good, mother?"

"I know it, because--I know it! Anybody looking in her face can _see_
it. And with two thousand a year, why--"

"One thousand, mother."

"I thought you said two, my son."

"So I did. That is the amount of the fortune left by the eccentric old
hospital-for-incurables founder. When poor Hardy made out his will he
made me residuary legatee because the trifle he had to leave--his kit,
etcetera,--was not worth dividing between me and Armstrong. If it had
been worth much he would have divided it. It is therefore my duty now
to divide it with my friend."

But in our anxiety to tell you these interesting facts, dear reader, we
have run ahead of the tea-fight! To detail all its incidents, all its
bearings, all its grand issues and blessed influences, would require a
whole volume. We return to it only to mention one or two gratifying
facts.

It was essentially a temperance--that is, a total-abstinence, a
blue-ribbon--meeting, and, at the end, the "Soldiers' Friend" earnestly
invited all who felt so disposed to come forward and sign the pledge.
At the same time, medals and prizes were presented to those among the
civilians who had loyally kept their pledge intact for certain periods
of time. On an average, over a thousand pledges a year are taken at the
Institute, and we cannot help thinking that the year we are writing of
must have exceeded the average--to judge from the numbers that pressed
forward on this particular night.

There were soldiers, sailors, and civilians; men, w