When they arrived they found the Chicago reporter ahead of them. He had evidently told Mrs. Brenton all the news, and her face flushed with eager pleasure as she listened to the recital. "Now," said the Chicago man, "I am going to leave Cincinnati. Are you sorry I am going?" "No," said Mrs. Brenton, looking him in the face, "I am not sorry." Stratton flushed at this, and then said, taking his hat in his hand, "Very well, madam, I shall bid you good day." "I am not sorry," said Mrs. Brenton, holding out her hand, "because I am going to leave Cincinnati myself, and I hope never to see the city again. So if you stayed here, you see, I should never meet you again, Mr. Stratton." "Alice," cried Stratton, impulsively grasping her hand in both of his, "don't you think you would like Chicago as a place of residence?" "George," she answered, "I do not know. I am going to Europe, and shall be there for a year or two." Then he said eagerly-- "When you return, or if I go over there to see you after a year or two, may I ask you that question again?" "Yes," was the whispered answer. * * * * * "Come," said Brenton to Ferris, "let us go."