Did no stray thought flit through her mind of all the gaiety and pleasure so much money might buy? Perhaps; but she was her father's own child. After a little more loving talk, the young secretary suddenly sprang to her feet. "I am forgetting myself sadly! The evening letters will be in." "Cobbler" Horn started. He had forgotten that she was his secretary. "I shall have to look out for another secretary, now," he said, with a comical air of mock dismay. "And, pray sir, why?" she demanded, standing before him in radiant rebellion. "I would have you to know there is no vacancy." Then she laughed in her bewitching way. "But, my dear----" "Say no more, daddy; it's quite settled. I shall very likely ask for an increase of salary; but there must be no talk of dismissal." Again she laughed; and, in spite of himself, the happy father joined in her merriment. "Well now, I must go," she said, with a parting kiss. "I'll send Miss Horn---- Why, she's my aunt! I declare I'd quite overlooked that!" "Yes, my dear; and a very kind aunt you'll find her." "I'm sure of that. But I'm afraid she'll be thinking me a very undutiful niece." At this moment, the door opened, and Miss Jemima herself walked in. "I thought it was time I came," she said, in her usual matter-of-fact way. "You must be thinking of getting back to bed, Thomas." Her niece interrupted her by throwing her arms around her neck, and giving her a hearty kiss. "Aunt Jemima, I have to beg your pardon," and she kissed her again; "but you didn't give me time, you were all off like a flock of sheep." "I think it is my place to beg your pardon, and not yours to beg mine," replied Miss Jemima, in the most natural way in the world. "I fear it was largely through me that you ran away from home." "Did I actually run away, then?" "I think there's little doubt of it. But, whether you ran away or not, the fact remains that my treatment of you had been anything but kind. I meant well, but was mistaken; and I'm thankful to have the opportunity of asking you to forgive me." "Don't say another word about it, auntie!" cried Marian, kissing her once more. "It's literally all forgotten. And I dare say I was a troublesome little thing. But let me see. You haven't seen my treasures yet--except the shoe. I'll fetch them." In a few moments she had brought her little sun-bonnet, and the other relics of her childhood which she had preserved. It will not be difficult to imagine the tender interest with which Aunt Jemima, and even "Cobbler" Horn himself, gazed on those simple mementos of the past. The severed bonnet-string was lying on the bed. Marian caught it up, and fitted it upon the bonnet. "I must sew my bonnet-string on," she said, gaily. Her father laughed indulgently, and even Aunt Jemima smiled. "Ah," she said, "and I too have a store of treasures to display," and she told of the little box in which she had kept the tiny garments Marian had worn in the days of old.