"I don't want to say that; for I don't know that I should want you to then," said Dora, with such exquisite simplicity, that the young man laughed outright, and said,-- "But you don't know that you sha'n't, do you, darling Dorelle?" "I didn't say so." "No; but--Well, I won't insist; only I shall put down the date. Let me see: Aug. 24, isn't it?" He took out his note-book, wrote a few words, and, glancing at Dora with a suppressed smile, put it away again. Then, more seriously, he took her hand, saying,-- "Only remember one thing, Dora; and that is, whatever may come in the future, this house is your home as long as it is ours; and, while I live, there is always some one who loves you best of all God's creatures." CHAPTER XXI. GIOVANNI'S ROOM. "OCHONE! an' it's weary work climbin' thim stairs," groaned Mrs. Ginniss, pausing upon the landing outside the organ-grinder's door. "An' mabbe she's wid him still. Anyway, I'll see, and save the coomin' down agin." With these words, Mrs. Ginniss gave a modest rap upon the door, and, as it remained unanswered, a somewhat louder one, calling at the same time,-- "Misther Jovarny! Misther Jovarny, I say! Is it out yees still are?" The question remaining unanswered, the good woman waited no longer, but, climbing the remaining flight of stairs took the key of her room from the shelf in Teddy's closet where it had been left, and unlocked the door. "Cherry, darlint, be ye widin?" asked she, throwing it open; and then, recollecting herself, added,-- "An' sure how could she, be, widout she kim in trew the kayhole? But, blissid Vargin! where would they be all the day long?" So saying, Mrs. Ginniss threw up the window, and looked anxiously down the street in the direction where Giovanni and Cherry had that morning disappeared. Nothing was to be seen of them; but, just turning the corner, came Teddy, his straw-hat pushed back upon his forehead, and his steps slow and undecided. He was thinking wearily, as he often thought of late, that the time had come when he could no longer withhold his little sister from the friends to whom she really belonged; and it was not alone the heat of the August night that brought the great drops of perspiration to the boy's forehead, or drew the white line around his mouth. "It's quicker nor that you'll stip, my b'y, whin you hear the little sisther's not in yit, an' it's wid Jovarny she is," muttered Mrs. Ginniss; and, half dreading the entrance of her son, she applied herself so diligently to making a fire in preparation for supper, that she did not appear to notice him. "Good-evening, mother. Where's Cherry?" asked Teddy, throwing himself wearily into a chair just inside the door. "An' is it yersilf, gossoon? An' it's the big hate is in it intirely." "Yes: it's hot enough. Where's Cherry?" "Takin' a little walk, honey. You wouldn't be shuttin' the poor child into the house this wedder, sure?"