The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-07-28

good fortune, and was handsome after massive type. Robert had known her all his life, and liked her, too but he was not in love with her or she with him. But they had acquiesced in the views of their elders, although Clara was suspected of 8 preference for young man of merry, pleasant humor, one Harry Levison, subal- tern in an infantry regiment, whose position was hardly substantial enough to please MT. Nesbet.
 Lady Jones suggested that Robert should come up to "The Willows that very night and make his pro- posal to Clara, before the other one had declared himself And Robert assented without any great eagerness. But, as it happened, there was press of work that night, and Robert was detained at Gorham House till after eight, and he was tired and sleepy when he reached his chambers, in a handsome new mansion in Blooms bury, built after his own designs. He stumbled up stairs half asleep and grumbling at having to dress and turn out again, and he grumbled still more when, on opening his outer door, he found the whole place in darkness the lamp in the corridor unit and no light either in his servants room.
 "So much for old retainers," nut tered Robert. In fact this household was not exactly on perfect footing. Basset, the man, was never about when he was wanted, and his wife, who had once been Lady Jones' maid, hardly atoned for her husbands shortcomings. Anyhow, they had both gone out and left the place to take care of itself and Robert, all in darkness, had to grope his way to the sitting. room chimney piece for match.
 When the match was struck and a lamp lighted, Robert looked about him, wondering whether he was awake or simply dreaming. There, in his own easy chair, was reclining a young woman, fast asleep; sleeping so soundly, indeed, that the sudden access of light only caused her to knit her eyebrows slightly, without awaking her. Across the young woman's knees lay small creature, a boy apparently, with absurdly small boots and long black stockings, whose head was pill lowed on her bosom, while on stool at her feet was stretched little girl with her head leaning against her mothers knees, and almost enveloped in her black, trailing skirt. All about were strewn shawls, wrappers and handbags, some of them bearing clean white labels, marked Engages Quest" which seemed to show that the little group of sleepers had but recently crossed the channel.
 "There is some mistake here," said Robert to himself in amazement. "Vis- itors for some other chamber shown into the wrong flat"
 They were sweet looking children even the mother, as she slept, had a soft, child-like expression on her face. The face was charming, too; rather thin, perhaps, but with features ad- mirably chiselled, and the form, stretched out in all the abandon of thorough repose, was of soft and grace full contour.
 Robert felt that it was pity to disturb such pleasing picture. And the poor things were evidently so tired; still the situation was embar- rassing, and would grow more so the longer it was continued. But the boy now showed signs of awaking his forehead puckered with wrinkles, and he rubbed his eyes vigorously with his little fist. Then his eyes opened wider and wider as he took in the un- ] accustomed scene about him; the eyes finally settled upon Robert looking into his in wonder, but without fear and then the baby face rippled into a smile. Robert was absurdly pleased that the child should smile at him.
 "We are to be friends, then, little chap" he said, smiling too.
 The boy, in trying to gain sitting posture, aroused his mother, who opened her eyes-they were beautiful eyes of a deep, dark gray-and, raising herself, looked about her vaguely at first and dazzled by the lamp-light but presently coming to full conscious ness, she looked up at Robert, while her cheeks were tinged with faint blush.
 "Are you, then, Robert?" she asked looking inquiringly into the young mans face, and speaking with pretty, foreign accent.
 "I am Robert, certainly; but fear not the right One-Robert Carmichel is my full name"
 "And l am Madame, that is, Mis- tress Carmichel: Denise my name surely you have heard of Denise?" said the young woman, holding out her disengaged hand, the other being clasped round her boy. "You did'not expect me, perhaps. Can it be that my letter did not arrive?"
 'l have not received it, certainly