“Of--of your mother, brother, sisters,” he said, coloring with shame. “There! it is out; and what do you think of your lover now?” “That he is--what shall I say? more fond than wise?” and she looked up brightly, the red lips smiling, the large, lustrous eyes a trifle misty. “Let’s kiss and make up, as the children say,” he whispered, bending over her till his mustache came in suspiciously close proximity to her face. “_I_ haven’t been quarrelling,” she returned, with an arch smile. They sat down side by side on a sofa. “I have missed you, naughty boy,” she said, still playfully, “because I wanted somebody to tell my gladness to, if for no other reason. Oh, Espy!” and her tone changed to one of deep feeling, “I am so blest! I seem to have nothing more to ask for! I, who have been such a lonely waif, have now found not only the mother I have been so long almost hopelessly seeking (and such a dear, darling mother, too), but father, brother, sisters, and even grand-parents. Old Mr. and Mrs. Heywood were here this morning--they are the loveliest old couple!--and took me right to their hearts, bidding me call them grandpa and grandma, as my brother and sisters do.” “Very strange, _very_!” remarked Espy, with a smile that belied his words. “Ah, Floy,” he added with a sigh, “I only wish I had some assurance that _I_ shall find equal favor with them, or at least with your mother.” “You need have no fears, Espy,” she said. “My mother and I passed the night together in each other’s arms--she sharing my bed--but not sleeping much, you may be sure. We talked till daybreak, each giving the other an account of her life during the years of our separation. I told her all about you--yes, everything--and she fully approves my choice, is ready to give you a son’s place in her dear, warm heart, only she says we must not ask to marry for a year or more (which you know we did not expect to do anyhow), because she must have me for a little while.” His face was radiant. “Bless her!” he cried. “I was afraid she would object to my poverty, particularly as I imagine them to be very wealthy.” “Mother says they are not that; only comfortably well-to-do. Their home is in that land of fruit and flowers, Santa Barbara, and Aunt Nannette has already promised to go with them on their return and make her home there, and--ah, don’t look so dismal, for though I, of course, cannot consent to be left behind, all want you to go also and settle there.” “I’ve not the least objection; in fact, am delighted with the idea!” he said with animation. “And so it’s all arranged! Everything has come out right in spite of the doubts and fears with which I’ve been tormenting myself.” “Ah, there was no need,” she said gayly; “but “‘Human bodies are sic fools, For a’ their colleges and schools, That when nae real ills perplex them They mak’ enow themsels to vex ’em.’”