He pressed her tenderly. "And now, darling, for the

conspiracy--Cupid's conspiracy. You write to your mother to-night and

say that you will be home on Wednesday because you will. Then tell

Mrs. Tremont that you have had a wire from her saying you must go home

Friday (I'll see that you do receive such a telegram), and leave

Friday morning by the 9:40. I will keep out of the way, because the

entire Tremont contingent will doubtless see you off. I will then meet

you at one of the stations near Boston. I can't tell you which, till I

hear from my friend, the Reverend John Langdon. He will have

everything arranged."

She looked at him with dilating eyes, her cheeks blanched with fear.

"Anna," he said, almost roughly, "if you have no confidence in me, I

will go out of your life forever."

"Yes, yes, I believe in you," she said. "It isn't that, but it is the

first thing I have ever kept from mother, and I would feel so much more

comfortable if she knew."

"Baby. An' so de ittle baby must tell its muvver ev'yting," he

mimicked her, till she felt ashamed of her good impulse--an impulse

which if she had yielded to, it would have saved her from all the

bitterness she was to know.

"And so you will do as I ask you, darling?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes," and they sealed the bargain with a kiss.

"Dearest, I must be going. It would never do for Mrs. Tremont to see

us together. I should forget and call you pet names, and then you

would be sent supperless to bed, like the little girls in the story

books."

"I suppose you must go," she said, regretfully.

"It will not be for long," and with another kiss he left her.




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