"You're not afraid that some one will see me kiss you and thus know that you belong to me?" he asked, banteringly. "It's too much like a chambermaid to be kissed in the hall," she answered, with a laugh. "Oh, is it?" "But I'm not afraid that people will think I belong to you; I'm--" She hesitated so long that Lawrence drew her yet nearer, with a fine disregard of the open door. "You're what?" he asked. "I'm proud to be yours." Here she turned her face away and held up the rose to shield her. "My darling!" he exclaimed. She glanced at him shyly. It was enchanting to see the lovely face so happy. "Now I must go," she went on, after a moment. "They're waiting for me. Oh, I wish you were able to come to drive with us! You are truly much better?" "Truly. I shall surely be out in a day or two. Stay one minute. Why didn't you tell me Lord Maxwell was over at Seaview?" Carolyn flushed deeply, but she answered, promptly, "Because I thought I wouldn't recall anything disagreeable to you; and I know he must be disagreeable." "Pshaw! What do I care about him? Why, Carolyn," his voice sinking to a tender intonation, "haven't I got you to think of, to live for, now? What more do I want, and what can hurt me so long as I have you?" The young man's face was full of a feeling that accorded with his words. "Carolyn!" called her mother from the lower hall. "Let me see you once more to-day," whispered Lawrence, and then the girl ran down the stairs. Lawrence hobbled back to his lounge again. He was thinking that he was the luckiest fellow in the world, and why shouldn't he and Carolyn be married in the very early fall, say the first day of September? He was still thinking this, when a sharp, fine rat-tat on the door made him call out: "Come in!" Whereupon the door was opened and shut with great swiftness, and Leander Ffolliott advanced to the lounge. He was dressed in his suit as a member of the United States Navy, the same habiliments which he wore when we first had the honor of meeting him. He once explained why he liked these "togs" better than anything else he had, better even than the much-abbreviated cycling-suit, in which he looked like a mere atom of humanity. These, he said, were regular trousers; they were not the "darn things that came only to his knees." It will be seen that he was already looking forward to pantaloons. Leander paused near where Lawrence was lying. He had his hands in his pockets, of course, and he was jingling jackstones industriously. "Well," he said, "how does it go?" "It doesn't go at all," was the response. Then Lawrence held out his hand and said, "Shake, old fellow." The boy extended a hand and grinned appreciatively. "I s'pose you ain't goin' to be hauled up long?" he asked. "I don't know. I hear you've got a job. How do you like it?" "What?" "Why, being a chaperon." Leander laughed shortly. He sat down on the edge of a chair. "I tell you, ain't Prue jolly?" he exclaimed. "Do you find her so?"