“Well, Roy, then,” she began, “I wanted you and your mother to like me, and I fancied I should succeed better as a stranger, than as Charlie’s wife;” and then she told him of her life at Uncle Phil’s; of Maude’s recognition of her; of the watch she sold, and which by some strange chance had come round to Maude, who did not know until just before she sailed whose watch it was she was carrying; of Uncle Phil’s wish that she should take another name than her own; of Maude’s arranging for her to go _incog._ to Leighton; and of the various devices she had resorted to in order to keep up the delusion, and mystify him with regard to her whereabouts. She uttered no unkind word against poor Georgie. She merely said, “Had you married Miss Burton, I should have gone away at once, and never have let you know who I really was. _She_ knew me from the first, but kindly kept my secret.” “Ye-es,” Roy rejoined, between a sigh and a groan, for he remembered many things Georgie had said in Edna’s presence, and which were far from being kind in her if she knew, as it seemed she did, who Miss Overton was. But Georgie was dead; he had buried her from his sight, and he would put from him even the memory of her faults, and remember only that at the last she had sanctioned his love for the young girl beside him, whose bright head he drew to his bosom, while he kissed the white brow, and said, “Never to have found you, darling, would have been a calamity, indeed, both to my mother and myself. She could not love an own daughter better than she loves you, and I long so to see her joy when she learns the truth, and that you are ours for ever.” Then they talked of that adventure in the cars, and laughed over the Miss Bettie Edna had so hurriedly dashed off, and spoke sadly and softly of poor Charlie in his far-off grave; and then, bending his head so low that his face touched hers, Roy said, “Georgie foretold this thing, and bade me not to wait because she was dead. Shall it not be as she said, my darling? Shall we be married at once?” Then Edna’s love of mischief broke out, and withdrawing herself from him, she answered saucily, “Married! who has said anything to me about marriage? Surely not you, and here you ask for an early day. I am astonished at you, Mr. Leighton.” “Edna,” Roy said, bringing her again to his side, and holding her so closely that she could not get away. “This is no time to trifle. You know well what my kisses meant when I first saw you here, and found that Edna was the same with the girl whom I named Brownie to myself, and whom I now think I have loved almost since I first saw her standing at my mother’s side, and answering to the name of Miss Overton. But lest you misunderstand me, and deem yourself not wooed _au fait_, I formally ask you to be my wife, feeling confident that after what has passed between us you will not refuse me.”