d his parents should call at
the alderman's and May's fate, in part, at least, be decided. Marion
also was to be there. He arrived early, unknowing even the name of his
rival. He concealed himself among the flowers in the conservatory,
pacing up and down the fragrant, embowered walks with hasty step and
anxious heart. How fondly memory roved back over the jewelled past,
glistening with departed joys; how fearfully imagination strove to
penetrate the gloomy future; how tremblingly did he await the bursting
storm of the blackened present.

The guests had arrived, and Marion was summoned to the drawing-room.
With jealous care he had dressed himself in a fireman's costume made of
rich materials, which wonderfully became him, that it might remind May
what he had dared for her, and what had rendered them so dear unto each
other. He stood with folded arms, his eyes fixed upon May Edgerton,
scarcely daring to glance at the stranger. Suddenly he lifted his eves
to the pale face of his rival, which was bowed towards the floor.

"Walter!" he cried.

"Marion!" was the startled response.

"Choose, May! choose between us!" exclaimed Marion, with glistening eyes
and extended hand.

"With your leave, Mr. Cunningham," she said joyfully, speaking to
Walter, but placing her hand in that of Sherwood.

"Man proposes, God disposes." A weight was lifted from Cunningham's
heart. While abroad, negligent of his promise to his parents, he had
woed and won a lovely girl to whom he had been privately married a few
weeks before setting sail for home, with the promise of a speedy return.
So desirous did he find his parents that May Edgerton should be his
wife, that he did not dare confess his recreancy, but relied upon the
hope that May's affections were already engaged, and thus she would save
him in part from the anger of his parents. Why did not Mr. and Mrs.
Sherwood frown and scold at May's poor taste! Why! Because they loved
their son Marion quite as well his half-brother, Walter Cunningham, and
were easily reconciled to the change of suitors, especially when they
learned Walter had already secured a most estimable wife.

Marion had heard that his brother was engaged conditionally to some
"proud, beauty heiress" of New York, and was not at all displeased to
have him renounce all claim to his promised bride, when he found to his
astonishment that it was his own May Edgerton, whom Cunningham confessed
it would have been no difficult thing