“Why, Mr. Mahone, you seem to have settled everything,” cried Ellen, half angry, half elated. “Always under your wishes, being only your shadow and nothing more, Miss Ellen, and having, in fact, no will of my own, nor wanting any.” “So private! So soon! I really don’t know what to say, Mr. Mahone.” “Let me say it for you, dearest of women; let me take this modest hesitation for yes. May I—may I?” “Mr. Mahone, you may.” A moment after this consent was given, the betrothed pair stole from the laundry, Mahone first and Miss Post after. She passed the cook with a lofty fling of the head, and apologized with mock humility for her presence in a place so far out of her usual element as a kitchen, at which the cook said “Scat,” which certainly did seem a little out of place, as no cat, black or white, was disturbing the tranquillity of the room. Not ten minutes after this the washerwoman came out of the laundry with her bonnet and shawl on, white as a ghost, but with undaunted fire in her eyes. In fact the poor drudge looked full of life, and almost handsome; a very different woman from the jaded and hopeless creature who had crept into the house with such humility only a few hours before. “You will please excuse me, I am not well enough for hard work to-day; for the whole world I couldn’t get out another piece.” The woman said this in a quick, eager way, as if she had quite determined on going, whether her apology was accepted or not. The cook would have argued with her, but the whole matter was cut short by the woman walking abruptly out of the house. Meantime Ellen Post knocked at the door of Miss Spicer’s room. That young lady turned the latch with her own hand. “Was that Mr. Lambert that just came in? I thought it was his step on the stairs?” “No, Miss,” answered Ellen, confidentially. “It’s only me; but I’ve got good news. The old woman and her boy are both in the hands of a policeman. Would it be convenient to let me have that amount?” “When they are convicted!” answered Miss Spicer, closing the door abruptly. Ellen Post stood for a moment in blank amazement, then she gave her head a toss and, speaking to herself, said sharply, “We shall see! We shall see!” CHAPTER LV. EVA’S TEMPTATION. Eva Laurence had no appetite for breakfast, and lingered about home long after she should have been at her duties at the store. There was something so unusual in her mother’s going out very early in the morning with a strange man, that both the girls were greatly disturbed, though each strove to hide her anxiety from the other. Once Eva put on her bonnet, and went as far as the gate, on her way down town; but, after lingering there a minute, she came back again. “I cannot go, Ruthy,” she said, with keen anxiety in her voice and manner. “Where has she gone? It is now two hours! What can have become of her?”