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Show menu Your very sincerely, fin. Fireis. Margnret received it at luncheon time, ond after she had read it twice or thrice she turned to her huge- mastiff who was sitting bolt upright beside her, and thtu addressed him: "Christopher, 1 am afraid your box is hopelessly obtuse. Now, what would you think of a letter like that coming from an individual whom you had known in childhood, had played with and squabbled with hundreds hun-dreds of times?' Christopher gazed at her fixedly, and Bolemnly thumped his tail as a dirge- like accompaniment. "Never mind, Christie, you love me anyway, don't yon, dear? There, old mull, duu'Ljick my face. You think I am crying, don't you? But it is not so, I assure you. Why, Christopher, do you think I would shed a tear for Paul Ferris? Fer-ris? Como, we will get ready and go to Stella, since she cannot come to us. An errand of love, my son, with roses and jasmine for our offering." There were many such errands of love HIE 1W0SAL I. It was late on n September afternoon. Tho day had been damp and doleful, and now at 5:110 the fog was trying to envelop everything with iU usual obstinate den airy. ' I Amid tho stream of hurrying, jostlf1; Immunity which swept down tho Strand was a man whose face, might have attracted at-tracted attention if there had been any one in that motley crowd not wholly engrossed en-grossed in Kelfinh interests. It was a lino, dark face, beautiful in its way, but marked by lines nnd shadows the face of a man who was fighting against the world and who was losing the battle, nnd yet a man whoso nature had not been imbittcrcd by sordid struggles, a man who had suffered unit grown strong. Such a ono was Paul Ferris, only ho would havo b"en very much surprised to have hear 1 it said. in tho ensuing week, for Stella grew weaker day by day, and her recovery seemed far off and uncertain. The poor child would fain have been well. She would talk for hours between sinuous of coughing about the things she would go and see, the books she would read, tho places she would vuit when she would be better again. It was Christmas eve that the end came. There was a Btidden attack of hemorrhage, a messago sent to Paul at ller Majesty's theatre, a few hours of hushed waiting, a little struggle and it was over. Margaret Stanhope was there, nnd it waa in her arms that Stella's life flickered and went out. Toward the last she begged Paul to sing to her. "Something that will make me go to sleep Boon," she said wearily. And Paul went to tho piano in the adjoining room and touched the keya softly. Sorrow and car may meet, The tempest cloud may low'ft TIim Kiirp) of sin may bent I'pnn life's troubled shore. OoJ doth lilt own lu rafety keep. Ho civeth liis beloved Bleep. When ho had finished ho felt a light touch on his shoulder. Ilo turned and saw Margaret with tho tears like rain on her face. ' She is asleep at last," she said brok- Ho plodded along, his threadbare coat lmttoned up to tho chin, head lent, eyes fixed on f ho ground, thinking of nothing I mora or less heroio than tho nnproaching I dimicrhfiur. Isupliose, thoturh, that even 1 u hero may bo pardoned for being Iron- 1 gry if lie has got through .tho day with- I out any luncheon. That waa tho case villi Tuul Ferris, at all events, and con- if eetiuenlly he was making tho best of his v. ny homeward, devoutly hoping that his tii tt r had ordered something substantial f.r their evening meal. Presently he turned off to tho right, and passed into one of those short and comparatively de-eevted de-eevted streets which run from tho Strand to tho embankment. Hero he entered ono of the row of lodging houses and was ino'i in iui dingy silting roota, with ! Its dismal lined carpet and upholstery. .As he came in a palo faced girl in a black gown rose from the conch where she had been lying and advanced to meet him, "You have come at last, Paul." ; 'Tes, little one, and glad to see you op and looking wo jolly." "The rehearsal was late, was it not?" "Late? I should say it was. Couldn't even get out to get somo lunch." 'Poor boy! That was tragical, I have ordered dinner for 0 o'clock, so possess your foul in palieiico until then. In the enlv. III. When Margaret had done what she could sho went away and Paul did not see her for months. It was better so, he told himself. Her way was not his. Their paths lay far apart, and he could not attempt to bridge tho gulf between them. And so life went on for him dully, drearily, with never a break in the monotony until spring came. Then one morning he met her on Regent street. She was jnst stepping step-ping into her carriage, but she stopped him and gave him her hand and drew him aside for a few moments' conversation. conversa-tion. "I am glad I happened to meet you," she said. "I wished to speak to you on on a matter of business. It is a favor I am going to ask of yon. "Xo; do not be so rash as to grant it beforehand, but promise to come to tho house to-morrow morning and we will talk it over. I shall be in until 12. Good-by, for the present." Whim Ferris was shown into Miss Stanhope's drawing room the next morning morn-ing ho found it deserted. A cheerful fire was burning in the grate, the sun struggled in through tho laco curtains, and on the window seats boxes of snowdrops snow-drops were lifting their delicate heads to receive the warm rays. Margaret appeared very shortly, and greeted him with her usual frank kindliness. kind-liness. She asked him to be seated, and alter a few commonplace remarks evidently evi-dently made an effort to plunge into tho fiihject weighing on her mind. "I asked yon to como here because I save something to say to you that con-'riis con-'riis us both something I wish to ask f you," she began.. "Anything that I can do for yon. Miss taniiope. You must know I am yours ti command." mean time I have a bit of news for you. Ferris threw off his coat and confronted con-fronted her. "Not bad news, child?" ''Xo. On the contrary," i "Good news? Ah, that's something ' novel and refreshing. Let's havo it, my good girl pra', don't keep me in suspense." sus-pense." lie seated himself by tho fireside and took oil liiii gloves, looking across at his Bister with u somewhat cynical smile. "To begin with, who do you think called here this afternoon?" "Creditors?" "Ko." Doctor?" "Xo." "My solicitor?" "Wrong again it was Margaret Stan-; Stan-; hope." Funis started and shaded his face with hi:! hand. I 'Well," ho asked, after a pause, "What did islio want of you?" ; "Slio was very kind, Paul; inquired nfter you, and asked ns both to an in- ! formal dinner on Thursday evening." I '"And you accepted?" i "Of course; I thought it would be a treat. .Surely you do not object?" "I cannot object, Stella, if it would pive you plci'sure. Yes. We will go if l.itt; so wills it." Jt was very land in her, Paul, to look up. Don't you think so? Slio haa ' only been in London n week," ' Yes, Mi.5 Stanhope has always been liitid and condescendin;;. Do you not Bee, tn j- child, I hat fiho would maka proteges of us? It in the fashion nowadays nowa-days to p:lro!ii?.o be;;f,'iirly musiciiins." "Paul," indignautly, "it is not liko you to bo such u bear. What Diakes vou Hpeak so? Vou know it is not true. How could she patronize us? Why, we knew her when i;he wore short dresses and played with doll babies. There is no ona 1 in the world so good mid beautiful us Margaret Stanhope, and you know it. ; And Paul" "It is rather difficult forme to toll you now that you are here," she went on i'rvously "Tho fact is, Mr. Ferris, I think of ::ilini; for New York in a fortnight, and -I want you to go with me!" Paul leaned forward and passed his hand over iiin eyes. "Lut I do not understand," he said, with a puzzled expression. No could Bee that she was laboring under some excitement, that her breath .vascomintt uncertainly. It seemed to him sho was very near tears, although hiie was smiling. "Monsieur," she said rapidly in French, "I have tho honor of asking your hand in marriage for Mllo. Stanhope." It struck him like a blow. It blinded him took his breath away. Ho could not speak, was only conscious that Margaret Mar-garet was kneeling beside his chair with lier hands on his arm; that her face wiin upturned, grave and tender. "Paul," fho whispered, "I love you. Will you marry me?" lie understood at last, and at last he .''eld her in his arms and kissed her reverently. rev-erently. "Paul! Paul!" she sobbed, "you must not think badly of me. I know you love inc. I knew j'ou would not speak. Oh, my darling, never leave me! Will you M'omiso it? Never for a day, for an iiour. Paul! Paul !" MacBae E. Mar-!,'W Mar-!,'W in Drake's JTacar'ue. "Well?" "I have sometimes fancied" A prolonged pause. "Will. out with it. What havo you ! fancied." "Tliat she cares for yon more than i otherwise than as a mere friend, I mean, ' There is an expression in her eyes whta the speaks of you" "Uooft heavens! Stella, you are ravin;;," rav-in;;," interrupted Paul, spvinin?? up aud reardiiii? her fiercely. "I forbid you to harbor such thoughts for a moment. Miss Stanhopo is as far removed from me as if sho were of royal blood. Evidently Evi-dently you do not realiza the difference existing between an heiress and a penniless penni-less concert singer. I" . "Cut Paul," interrupted Stella in her turn, "you must not forget you are a pent leuinn born, and our families were friends in the years gone by." "A gr'nUciiiau'.1" repealed Paul, cliuro garding the last dnnso in her Buntenco. 'Yes, tao son of an obscure curate, a vagabond hy adoption. And nm I to woo 'dear Lady Disdain? Good GodI You drive mo mad!" Stella watched him blankly for a mo wont as no nung about tlio room, tfien glio throw herself on the lounge and burnt into hysterical tears. Naturally this brought him to his senses at once, and lie patted, and petted, and soothed and pacified until tho fitorm was over. II. Thursday, the 1st of October, dawned, lint it brought no prospect of the Ferrises dining at Kensington. Tliere came instead a small note which read as follows: No. 19 Kausbcrt Stueet. Oct. t 1 My 1'k.ik Mis Stanhope My siMer is so very nnii li wurse today that it will lie impos.4l.le for us to dine at your home ibis evening, fclie desires Die to cunvey to you her regret and disappoint- j |