“My poor Rufus!” said Lally, with a gay, sweet smile, such as had not visited her roguish mouth since the blight had fallen on her life. “Mrs. Peters is harsh in seeming, but her heart is true and tender. She loves me dearly, and I love her more as a friend than as a mistress. One thing we must understand, Rufus,” and Lally’s gayety increased, “I can’t part with dear old Peters.” Rufus looked aghast. “You--you won’t marry me then?” he gasped. “Yes, Rufus; but I must keep Peters. She won’t leave me; and besides, it was only yesterday I thought her the only friend I had in the world.” “Her name _is_ Peters then?” said Rufus, bewildered. “I traced you two up from London under the names of Miss Wroat and Mrs. Peters. I didn’t notice a third name as belonging to the party. By what name are you known here then, Lally?” “As Miss Wroat, dear.” Rufus looked his amazement. “I--I don’t understand,” he said helplessly. “They said that Miss Wroat was an eccentric old lady, who was rich, and odd as Dick’s hatband. Has she adopted you?” “Do you remember, Rufus, that last morning we spent together at New Brompton?” said Lally gravely. “I told you then that I had no relative living except a great-aunt, an old lady who lived in London, and who was rich, but whose name I did not know. That aunt I afterward discovered. Her name was Mrs. Wroat. She was an eccentric old lady, but good and sweet at heart, and I loved her. She is dead, and it is for her I wear mourning.” Rufus looked open-eyed astonishment. “That is not all,” said Lally. “I took my aunt’s name at her death, at her request. She made me her heiress. I am the owner of the town house in Mount street, and of the estate of Heather Hills, and have besides fifty thousand pounds safely invested, so that I have an income of about three thousand pounds a year.” Rufus’ arms dropped from his wife’s waist. “An heiress!” he muttered. “And I have dared to dream that you would take me back? An heiress! A trifle of money will set you free, Lally, from any marriage claims, and you can marry according to your new position. I do not wonder that Mrs. Peters turned me out of your house, a poor, good-for-nothing coward unfit even to address you. An heiress! O Heaven! The word is like a two-edged sword between us!” He moved backward, white and trembling. A mischievous gleam shot from Lally’s gipsy eyes. “I have known so much of poverty,” she said, “that I should like to keep this wealth. It would make a good basis to build upon. But if it is ‘like a two-edged sword between us,’ I suppose I can endow some already rich hospital with it, or give it to Peters, or send it to the heathen.” “You don’t mean, Lally,” cried Rufus, all agitation, “that you, a rich lady, will stoop from your high estate and marry me, and try to make something of me?” “I do mean just that!” cried Lally, with spirit. “For you know, Rufus, I--I love you.” Rufus was at her side again in an instant.