“Yes, she’s home—­and they’re together!”

The words were repeated very quietly, but there was that in the well-known voice, so close at hand, that seemed to Claire to shake the world.  In an instant she was upon her feet, gazing up speechless, into Francis Ronald’s baffling eyes.

“You are kind to every one,” he said, “but for me you have only a sting, and yet—­I love you.”

* * * * *

Martha was still busy wrestling with the pyramid of dishes left over from the feast, when at last Claire came in alone.

“Did you get a chance to compose yourself, an’ quiet down some under the stars?” inquired Mrs. Slawson.  “It’s been a noisy day, with lots doin’.  I don’t wonder you’re so tired—­your cheeks is fairly blazin’ with it, an’ your eyes are shinin’ like lit lamps.”

“You knew—­you knew he was here!” said Claire accusingly.

“He? Who?  O, you mean Mr. Ronald?  Didn’t I think to tell you, he come up along with Mr. Blennerhasset?  I been so flustrated with all the unexpected surprises of the day, it musta slipped my mind.”

“I’ve seen Mr. Ronald!” Claire said.”  I’ve spoken with him!”

“Now, what do you think o’ that!  Wonders never cease!”

“Do you know what I did?”

“Search me!”

“I told him—­the truth.”

“We-ell?”

“And—­I’m going to marry him!"

Mrs. Slawson sat down hard upon the nearest chair, as if the happy shock had deprived her of strength to support her own weight.

“No!” she fairly shouted.

“Yes!” cried Claire.  “And, O, Martha!  I’m so happy!  And—­did you ever dream such a thing could possibly happen?”

“Well, you certaintly have give me a start.  I often thought how I’d like to see Mr. Ronald your financiay or your trosso, or whatever they call it.  But, that it would really come to pass—­” She paused.

“O, you don’t know how I dreaded next winter,” Claire said, as if she were thinking aloud.  “I went over it—­and I went over it, in my mind—­what I’d do—­where I’d go—­and now—­Now!...  I couldn’t take that fine job you had your eye on for me, not even if it had come to something.  Don’t you remember?  I mean, the splendid job you had the idea about, that first night I was sick.  I shan’t need it now, shall I, Martha?”

“You got it!” said Martha.

Claire’s wide eyes opened wider in wonderment.  She stared silently at Mrs. Slawson for a moment.  Then the light began to break in upon her slowly, but with unmistakable illumination.

“You—­don’t—­mean?” she stammered.

“Certaintly!” said Martha.

THE END