te that I've got, and
one time she told me if ever I wanted a job to come to her."

The happy look in Mrs. O'Brien's face slowly faded. Tears again filled
her eyes. "And is that all you've got to tell me?"

"Yes, Ma, that's all. I'm going down to see Miss Graydon this morning."

"Oh, Ellen, Ellen, to think of your doing a thing like that without
asking the advice of a soul! You're a foolish, headstrong girl!"

Ellen dropped her eyes. "George Riley thinks I'm doing right."

Mrs. O'Brien looked up sharply.

"Jarge Riley indeed! And may I ask what Jarge Riley's got to with it?"

"George and me are friends again. I thought I better tell you."

In Mrs. O'Brien amazement took the place of grief. "Ellen O'Brien, do
you mean to tell me that you've took up with Jarge Riley when you might
have had a gentleman like Mr. Hawes?"

The flush that her mother's words excited was one of anger as well as
embarrassment. "Ma, you listen to me: I've never once told you that I
might have Mr. Hawes! You've made that up yourself!"

"Made it up myself, indeed! when he's been taking you out night after
night and treating you like a real lady!"

"And what's more," Ellen went on vehemently, "George Riley's worth
twenty Philip Hawses!"

Mrs. O'Brien looked at her sharply. "Is it that you're going to marry
Jarge Riley?"

Ellen, breathing hard, made answer a little unsteadily: "Yes."

Mrs. O'Brien dropped back limply into her chair. "Mercy on us!" she
wailed, "and is this the end of your fine looks and your fine
education--to marry a farmer like Jarge Riley! Why, you could have had
him without any business college or nothing!"

Ellen stood up and Mrs. O'Brien, her face woe-begone and tragic, made
one last appeal: "Ellen O'Brien, I ask you in all seriousness, are you
determined to throw yourself away like that?"

Ellen was nothing if not determined. "I'm going down to Miss Graydon's
now," she said in a casual tone which ended all discussion; "and me and
George will probably get married in the spring."

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE HAPPY LOVER

It was several days before Mrs. O'Brien regained her usual complacency.
"'Tain't that I've got anything against you, Jarge," she explained many
times to her prospective son-in-law. "I'm really fond of you and I treat
you like one of me own. But what with her fine looks and her fine
education I was expecting something better for Ellen. Why, Jarge, she
ought to be marrying a Congressman at leas