one you have, Tom. You see, one bedroom is used for a ‘present room,’ one is reserved for Schuyler to-morrow, the bridesmaids have another, and except for our own rooms, and those already occupied by guests, there are no more. I hate to ask you, Tom, but could you go to the Inn?” “Sure, Maddy dear; anything to oblige. But it does seem too bad to turn me out of your house the very last day that your hospitality is all your own to offer. To-morrow the grand Seigneur will be master here, and my timid little Madeleine can no longer call her soul her own.” This reference to the tall and stately mistress of the house raised a general laugh, but Madeleine did not join in it. “I’m so sorry, Tom,” she said earnestly, as she looked again at the telegram she was holding, “but Miss Morton was an old friend of Uncle Richard’s, and as she wants to come here I can’t turn her away. And unless you give her your room, there is no other——” “Nonsense, Madeleine! I’m only joking. Of course, I’ll go to the hotel. Only too glad to accommodate Miss Morton. Forget it, girl; I assure you I don’t mind a bit. I’ll pack up a few traps after dinner and skip down to the picturesque, if rather ostentatious, Mapleton Inn.” As Tom spoke he put his arm carelessly round Madeleine’s shoulders, and though scarcely more than a cousinly caress, it was unfortunate that Schuyler Carleton should enter the room at that moment. A lightning glance flashed between the two men, and as Tom moved away from Madeleine with a slightly embarrassed shrug of his shoulders, Carleton’s face grew so stern that an uncomfortable silence fell upon the guests. However, the arrival of the tea-tray saved the situation, and Madeleine at once busied herself in the pretty occupation of serving tea to her guests. With an air of jealous proprietorship, Carleton moved toward her and, looking handsome, though sulky, stood by Willard with folded arms, as if on guard. Urged on by a daredevil spirit of mischief, and perhaps remembering that Madeleine would soon be beyond his reach as Carleton’s wife, Tom also moved toward her from the other side. Endeavoring to treat the situation lightly, Madeleine held up a newly-filled teacup. “Who will have this?” she asked gaily. “I will!” declared Carleton and Tom at the same time, and each held out a hand. Madeleine looked at them both smilingly. Carleton’s face was white and set; he was evidently making a serious matter of the trifling episode. Tom, on the contrary, was smiling broadly, and was quite evidently enjoying his rival’s discomfiture. “I shall give it to you because you look so pleasant,” declared Madeleine, handing the cup to Tom. “Now, Schuyler, smile prettily and you may have one, too.” But Carleton would not fall in with her light mood. Bending a little, he said in a 

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