"Tell me, Gerty. Is Paul kind to you, and considerate of your wants?" Her eyes fell beneath his; and there was such a pained expression on her once happy face he needed no other answer. A little tingle of the table bell announced that dinner was ready; and almost immediately after Marion appeared smiling and blushing at the singular position in which she found herself placed. "This is my brother, Marion," Gertrude said with a bright smile, "I've been telling him all about my new sister." "Will you try to come to the table, darling?" whispered the visitor; "or shall I bring you a piece of steak here?" "Oh, I will go! Edward will give me his arm." Marion rolled an easy chair to the table; called Bridget to bring a cricket, and without a word seated herself at the head of the table opposite a steaming dish of potatoes, mashed and browned in the form of a pineapple. She waited one moment hoping Mr. Wallingford would offer to say grace; but as he did not, she bowed her head one instant and then with a smile, commenced her self-imposed duty of waiting on the others. Bridget, who had been privately instructed, stood behind her chair waiting to carry the plates. On the handsome side board was a dish of jelly and a silver basket filled with different kinds of cake, with Gertrude's pretty service of silver, exciting suspicion that coffee would be forthcoming in due time. The young wife colored with delight as she saw what a nice repast was in readiness for her brother, and could not forbear saying: "Edward, you must thank my new sister for your dinner. I am a very poor housekeeper." "Bridget has proved an efficient help," quietly observed Miss Gilbert. "You will be able to judge presently of her skill in making coffee." "But where is your husband?" inquired Edward. "He generally takes dinner at a restaurant," answered Gerty, trying to steady her voice. Edward looked so indignant that the poor child felt called upon to explain. "You know, brother, Hannah's cooking was always done with so little fuss, that I thought it no trouble at all to keep house. Paul would have very sorry fare, if he took his meals at home." Before she had finished speaking, there was a loud, decided ring. "That's Paul," she exclaimed anxiously. "I know his ring." "Don't tell him he has visitors," cautioned Marion, as Bridget passed her to open the door. "How came you, here?" Paul asked angrily. "You needn't expect a cent from me. I told you to go at once." They heard him walking into the hall, where he probably perceived the smell of steak and coffee. "So you and your mistress can get up a meal when I'm away," he began in a sneering tone. "You didn't expect I'd come home, I suppose. Well, I'm glad I've found what is done in my absence; and you may leave as quick as you please." By this time he had laid aside his hat and gloves, thrown his newspaper on the hall table; and walked toward the dining room, asking: "Is your mistress here?" throwing open the door.