ear, as soon as we can get there. Come along!"

"Myry--Mr Barron passed as we came into the hotel, and only raised his
hat."

"Have papa and he had some misunderstanding over the cards?"

"Perhaps: over the hearts."

"Edie!" cried Myra, colouring. "What do you mean?"

"He has been proposing for you, and uncle said no; and now he is going
to carry us off home to be safe."

"Proposed for me," said Myra thoughtfully, and in the most unruffled
way, as her eyes assumed a dreamy, wondering look.

"Of course, and you love him dearly, don't you?"

"I? Oh, no," said Myra calmly.

"What a strange girl she is!" thought Edith that night as she went to
bed.

And Myra said to herself again calmly and thoughtfully: "Proposed for
me. Perhaps Edie is right. But how strange!"

CHAPTER EIGHT.

STRATTON'S DECISION.

"Yes, sir, it's done," said Mrs Brade, looking sadly in at the doorway
on the left side of the fire; "and I hope it will turn out all right,
but my experience of pipes is that they always busties in the winter,
and drowns all your neighbours out on the next floor."

"Well, I hope this will be an exception," said Stratton, laughing.

"I hope so, too, sir, but it's no laughing matter, and for my part--
though, of course, gentlemen have a right to do as they like--I think
there is nothing like a big, flat, zinc bath painted oak out, and white
in, set on a piece of oilcloth in a gentleman's bedroom. Then you've
your big sponge, and a can of water. No trouble about them getting out
of order."

"But the trouble, Mrs Brade," said Stratton. "No filling; no
anything."

"No, sir, of course not; but you're always at the mercy of the plumbers;
and if these men don't always leave their work so that it'll make
another job before long, I'm not a Christian woman."

"Oh, you object to it because it's new-fashioned," said Stratton
merrily.

"Which, begging your pardon, I don't, sir. What I do object to is your
taking up a beautiful closet to make into a bath room; and out of your
sitting room, and none too much cupboard room before. If it had been a
cupboard in your bedroom I shouldn't have said a word."

"But there was no cupboard there, Mrs Brade, and that closet fitted
exactly, so say no more about it."

"Certainly not, sir, if you don't wish it; and only too glad am I to
have got rid of the workmen; though as I lay in bed last night I said to
my husband, `Mark my word, John, if Mr Brettison don't go