fortune."

My cheeks were very red indeed, nor did I look up from sniffing at the flowers until Morris had left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Then I rose slowly, and carrying the basket with me, laid it on the floor at my feet. I sat down by the table, where my small lunch awaited me, but I did not care to eat. I began carefully to take one beautiful blossom after another out of the basket. Of course, Vernon Carbury had sent these flowers to me; there was no doubt whatever on the subject. How reckless of him—how wrong of him! And yet, how splendidly nice and delightful of him! But I must speak to him on this very point to-morrow. He was, of course, far from rich, and he must on no account spend his money on me; I would not permit it for a moment. Still, it was delightful to sniff these roses, and to think of him, and to wonder, deep down in my heart, what he could find in a little, insignificant girl like me to love.

I had finished my tea and was standing by the window, when, to my amazement, I heard a firm and determined knock at the door. Whoever the person was who waited without, she did not linger long; she turned the handle of the door and entered.

It was my stepmother. Her eyes lighted up with pleasure as they fell on the beautiful basket of hothouse roses.

"Ah!" she said, "I might have guessed as much. This explains everything, and how lovely!"

"I thought you were on the river," I said.

"A tiresome thing happened," she replied, "and I have come back. Aren't those flowers lovely?"

"Yes," I said. I felt quite pleased and surprised at her sympathy. Was it possible that I had been mistaken in her all the time? Was she really the sort of woman who would wish me to care about a man like Captain Carbury?

She came up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Heather," she said, "you are one of the lucky people of the world. I knew that, from the moment I laid my eyes on you; I told your father so, and for some time we both have seen what was coming. Yes; you are of the fortunate ones of the earth. Remember, Heather, in your days of prosperity, that you will always have to thank me for this."

"But nothing is coming," I answered, for although I was surprised and liked her for her sympathy, I would not even pretend that I cared for Vernon Carbury. Then I continued:

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