"Yes," said the girl walking close to him and looking him in the face. "There is only one way I can go to Chicago with you." "How's that, girlie?" was Druce's astonished question. Elsie held up her left hand timidly. "With a plain gold ring on that finger, Martin," she said. She was now blushing furiously. She knew that she had virtually proposed to Druce. He laughed and something in his laugh jarred her. "Oh, marriage," he said. "You know that Martin, don't you? I couldn't go to Chicago with you any other way." Druce took off his hat. "Elsie," he said, "you're as good as gold. I honor you for your scruples." He paused to think for a moment. "I'll tell you," he said. "You come along with me and I'll marry you as soon as we reach Chicago. Meanwhile I'll telegraph ahead and arrange to have you taken care of by my old aunt. You'll be as safe with her as if you were in your own home." "You promise to marry me?" "Sure I do, girlie." He broke off blusteringly. "What do you take me for? Do you think I'd lure you to Chicago and then leave you?" "Martin," said Elsie gravely, "a girl must protect herself." "You'll go, honey?" Druce persisted. "I can't tell," replied the girl desperately, anxious to promise and yet afraid. "You'll go," said Druce positively, "at eight o'clock--" A cool voice broke in on his sentence. Druce started like a man suddenly drenched with cold water. "What's that is going to happen at eight o'clock, Mr. Druce?" The speaker was Patience Welcome. CHAPTER VI A ROMANCE DAWNS--AND A TRAGEDY Patience Welcome shared all the prejudices of her employer, John Price, against "city chaps." Her observation of those who had presented themselves in Millville had not raised her estimate of them. As a class she found them overdressed and underbred. They came into her small town obsessed with the notion of their superiority. Patience had been at some pains in a quiet way to puncture the pretensions of as many as came within scope of her sarcasm. She was not, like many girls of Millville, so much overwhelmed by the glamour of Chicago that she believed every being from that metropolis must be of a superior breed. She had penetration enough to estimate them at their true value. In her frankness, she made no effort to conceal her sentiments toward them. But recently there had come into her acquaintance a product of Chicago whom she could not fit into Mr. Price's city chap category. This was Harry Boland.