too much hope on that point you had better talk it over with your father. He may think differently from what you do. He may not want to keep a tramp's boarding-house," she added, quietly. "Father will be sure to think as I do," reiterated Bernardine. "He has a rough exterior, but the kindest of hearts beats in his rugged bosom." "You are right there, Bernardine," said David Moore, pushing open an inner door and coming forward. "I could not help overhearing all that passed between you two. I am sorry you have lost all your money, Miss Rogers; but that will not make any difference in the heartiness of the welcome we give you; and if Bernardine wants you to stay here with us, stay you shall. So take off your bonnet, and make yourself at home."CHAPTER XIX."TRUE LOVE NEVER DOES RUN SMOOTH."

Miss Rogers was quite overcome by the hearty welcome she received from David Moore, the old basket-maker, and Bernardine, his lovely daughter. It went straight to her lonely heart, because she knew it was genuine friendship untainted by mercenary motives. She shared Bernardine's humble yet dainty apartment and fell quite naturally into being a member of the household.

There was one thing that puzzled her greatly, and that was the sighs that would rend sweet Bernardine's breast while she was sleeping. "The girl has some secret sorrow which she is hiding from the world," she thought, anxiously. "I must find out what it is."

She had been an inmate of Bernardine's home for a week before she learned that the girl was soon to be wedded. Bernardine's father told her, hinting triumphantly that that event would mean the dawn of a more prosperous future for the family, as her intended husband was very rich - had money to burn. "Don't say much about him to Bernardine," he added quickly, "for she's not in love with him by any means."

"Then why is she going to marry him?" asked Miss Rogers, amazedly.

"He has money," replied David Moore, nodding his head wisely; "and that's what sharp girls are looking for nowadays."

"I thought love was the ruling power which moved young girls' hearts," responded Miss Rogers, slowly. "At least, it used to be when I was a young girl like Bernardine."

He laughed uneasily, but made no reply, as Bernardine entered the room at that instant with an open letter in her hand. "Jasper Wilde has returned to the city, father," she said, tremulously, "and - and he is coming here this evening to see us."

As the girl uttered the 

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