“Mother’s sister Susan is living at ‘The Norwood,’ a fine apartment-house here in the city, and when I came to New York in search of Dollie, I called on them and asked them to help me.” “And they were mean enough to refuse?” asked Bert, indignantly. “Were they!” cried Marion, her eyes snapping angrily. “Why, they were so shocked at my suggestion that they came near dying on the spot of sheer mortification.” “A couple of empty-headed pugs,” said Bert, disgustedly, “but anyhow, you didn’t need ’em. You found Dollie all right, Marion.” “Here’s a dreadful thing,” exclaimed Marion, after a minute. “A boy of sixteen run over by a cable car. He was killed almost instantly, and they have taken him to the morgue. Unless some one claims him he’ll be buried in Potter’s Field.” “Poor chap,” said Dollie, with tears in her eyes. “He may have been a country boy who was not familiar with the city.” “The cars are awful,” said Marion, with a sigh. “I always hold my breath when I start over a crossing.” There was a tap on the door and the maid announced a caller. Marion looked at the card, and then handed it to Dollie. “Ralph Moore,” read Dollie, with the blood mantling her pretty face. “Shall we ask him to come upstairs? There is no other place to see him.” Marion stopped a moment and glanced at the table, where the remnants of their frugal supper were still standing. “Yes, tell him to come up,” she said, very firmly. “He may as well see us as we are, then there will be no misunderstanding.” At ten o’clock promptly the two young men left, with Dollie and Mr. Moore more in love than ever. “I think he is quite the nicest young man I ever saw,” said Dollie, candidly. “Don’t you think so, yourself? Now be honest, Marion.” “He is very nice,” said Marion, quietly, “but I’m almost afraid he is a little wild, not a bit like Mr. Ray who is so steady and settled.” “Pooh,” said Dollie, laughing. “I’m glad he is a little gay. I’d awfully hate to have a pokey man around. I’d rather they’d be wild so long as they are not wicked.” “Well, we won’t quarrel about them,” said Marion, smiling. “We have something else to do besides worrying about lovers.” “But we will both have lovers some day I hope,” said Dollie, sighing. “This world would be a dreadfully dull old place if it wasn’t for the sweetness of love and lovers.” “You have Silas Johnson,” she said, a little mischievously. “Do you know I can’t understand Silas yet, little sister. I feel that there is something else besides the mortgage that is worrying Silas.” “I was surprised that he should ask me to marry him,” said Dollie, sadly. “Men like father and Silas are always unforgiving where women are concerned.” Marion looked at her tenderly. “Never mind about them, little sister,” she said very softly. “There is sadness and sorrow enough, Heaven knows. I only hope that we may some day find some one to love and to love us.”