The Press., 1892-09-01

IOu WiSo llJtl6 WOUldu, btt1Q p fhtt- ces, kissing her fondly. "Thank God you have found that out in time" | She made her way back to The Grange in the dusk of the evening, and stole up stairs into her own room. She would not intrude upon the family party that night; they should have their ] boy all to themselves, and she was glad enough to postpone tho meeting she 1 could not help dreading.
 Next morning Mrs. Smith sent for her to come to the boudoir.
 "I missed you last night, Francie dear," she began, but I suppose you came home late and were glad to go to bed" She had adopted the family pet name at the girls own request. She found Frances" too stiff. II had dear friend once called Fanny should like to call you so, if you don't mind, my dear?" she said.
 It happened that Fanny" was a pet abomination with fastidious Frances; her color rose, but a moment after she answered gently, Certainly, if you wish it, Mrs. Smith, but-at home-they call me 'Francie,' and 1 think that is pret- tier" df course it was adopted at once, as nearly all Francie's ideas were.
 On this particular morning Mrs. Smith wanted Frances to write 0 note for her which man servant was pres ently to take. The girl sat down to the writing table, and Mrs. Smith went to | give orders for the man to saddle his horse.
 In minute CT two Jack Smith came sauntering unsuspiciously into the room: l. II T. dress bending over her work, he said to himself, ''The new companion, I sup pose" Her back was toward him. he could not see her face. She raised her head. Something ill the turn of the neck, the rich coils of bright brown hair, seemed familiar; he made a nasty move ment-shc looked around then shc rose and faced him.
 Good heavens, Miss Lisle! You here?"
 "Yes. Oh, don't you know?' Her face was scarlet. Hasn't your mother told you? I'm her companion" | "Never!' All this astonishment was summed up in the one word. She drew nearer.
 "Yes. My father died, and we were very poor. Then Mrs. Smith took me- She has been so good, so kind. Oh, won't you forgive mo? I was ignorant, stupid-what you will; have repented bitterly. Your mother is fond of lie: your father thinks so much of me; l love them both dearly. Don't tell them: 1 can't bear it; spare me that; let them love mo still. An, think you might forgive me-now"- She bravely tried to keep back the tears that blinded her and nearly choked her utterance. He came forward and took the hands she was holding out to him with such sup plicating gesture.
 "I-almost think there's nothing-to forgive" he replied slowly, as if half dreaming. Then Mrs. Smith came in and they moved quickly apart.
 Well, Johnny, my dear, I suppose you haven't forgotten Miss Lisle? This is the dear young lady have told you about, who is kind enough to come and be daughter to me. And a very good one she is, too, Johnny; don't know what should do without her. We un. derstand each other, don't we, Francie?'
 The girl turned and kissed her, once twice-too much moved to utter word, | U1Oll potSoCu OWL OuI Ol would have followed her, but his mother caught him by the arm. "One moment. Johnny, dear. There was some hitch between you and your love; tell me, was it us, father and me-because"-
 "No, no, mother, dearest-theres nothing-God bless you!-there's noth- ing now
 Frances had scarcely reached the foot of the stairs leading to her own apart ment before his voice arrested her. "Dont go, Miss Lisle-Frances-t is something 1 want to tell you" She paused, still half turned away from him. He went on quickly. My godfather has left me 0 small estate in the west of England-on two conditions. The first is that enter upon parliamentary career; and the second that adopt his name and henceforth call myself John Vol verccurt Smith, She covered her face with both hands. "Under these circumstances-do you think may ven- ture to ask the girl l love-to be my wife?'
 He tried to take tho hands away from her hot, tear stained face. "Oh-I'm- sorry," she fultered, yielding them to his grasp.
 "Sorry, sweetheart? For whatY'
 Because-bccausc"- she looked up bravely; there should be no mis- understanding now through any false shame of hers -"because now I can never prove to you how glad and-and proud it would make me-to be-
 ''To be what, my love-my darling?"
 It was easy now, from the shelter of his arms, to whisper:
 Mrs. John Smith, Junior. ."-Argosy.