portrait of
her, with its wizardry and strange truth, which she had not failed to
show him.

"Tom, if I thought you could feel bitter, I should die, that's all,"
cried Aurora, jumping up and following. "You've been such a friend to
me! Do you suppose I forget? Never was there such a friend. And you
know, now don't you, Tom, that I think the whole, whole world of you?"
Arms were clasped around his neck,--large arms, solid and polished as
marble, but tender as mother birds; a head was pressed hard against his
shoulder. "There never could anybody take your place with me. You'd only
have to call over land and sea, and I'd come flying to serve you, to
nurse you in sickness or help you in sorrow. Give me a good hug, Tom.
Give me a good kiss, and say you know I mean every word!--Now, isn't
this better than to see me across the table at breakfast, with my hair
in curlers, and to have me snooping round being jealous of your female
patients?"

"No, it's not better; but it's pretty good."

"Do you mean to tell me, Tom, that you'd be any more likely to cut my
name in a tree, or kiss my stolen glove, than I'd be to wish on the
first star you loved me or write poetry about my feelin's?"

"Nell, I'm not telling; the subject is closed. But any time there's
anything I can do for you, anything in this world, Nell, you know you've
only got to sing out."

"You'll marry, Tom dear, by and by."

"Very well. If you say so, I'll marry. But what I said will hold good if
I do. It will hold good, too, if you marry, Nell. Oh, let's talk about
something else."

The change of subject could hardly be effected in less time than it
takes to reverse engines; a minute or two passed before Aurora inquired
concerning the number of hours' travel between Florence and Liverpool,
then about his steamer, his stateroom and the exact time of his
starting.

"Nine o'clock in the evening. I see, so as to have daylight for the
Alps. You'll dine here of course and we'll take you to the station."

He judged it more prudent to dine at his hotel and meet them afterwards
at the station near train-time.

"Then--" sighed Aurora, sorrowfully, "this is our last evening! For I
heard you and the consul planning for to-morrow evening together, and he
to read you some chapters of his book. A compliment, Tom. He's never
offered to read _us_ any of it. I'm only sorry the idea didn't
ripen sooner, so that we needn't be robbed of your very last evening. We
must make the