"I hope," said English Jane tranquilly, "that I shall be allowed to hand you your coffee a great many mornings. Every morning, in fact, after we--." A great wave of lovely color rolled gloriously over her fair face. "O John!" she whispered, "didn't you mean it when you told me that you loved me?" "Didn't I _mean_ it?" he echoed. "Well, I should say I did!" And he looked it, to her complete satisfaction. "But----" "You loved me when all the world despised me," murmured Jane. "I shall never forget that. Besides," she added shyly, "I--love you, and it would break my heart to----" "Darling!" exclaimed John Everett. "Then we'll be married to-morrow. For to tell you the truth, Jane, I'm downright afraid to let you go back to England alone." Of course this ridiculously hasty decision of John Everett's had to be severely modified and reconstructed by the various ladies nearly concerned in the case. Bertha Forbes, for one, immediately took a hand in the affair and pooh-poohed the notion of such unseemly haste. "What do you know about this young man, anyhow, that you should be willing to marry him out of hand in this mad fashion?" she demanded with decided acrimony. "I love him," Jane replied, with stubborn tranquillity. "I shall never love anyone else," she added confidently. "What about Mr. Towle?" inquired Bertha coolly. "Mr. Towle!" echoed Jane, with an air of extreme surprise. "What, pray, has Mr. Towle to do with it?" "Isn't he a lover of yours?" "I'm sure I can't help _that_," pouted Jane, with a shrug of her slim shoulders. "He is ages older than I am, and besides----" "Well," grunted Miss Forbes, "go on; what other crimes has he committed?" "Of course he can't help being bald, poor man. But, Bertha, he came to see me one day at Mrs. Belknap's; I can never forgive him for that. Fancy his waiting in the kitchen, and being sent away--like a--like a butcher's boy! But that wasn't enough, even; he came back and persisted in talking to me on the kitchen porch. Do you know if it hadn't been for Buster interrupting, just as he did, I actually believe I should have--that is, I _might_ have--and only think, Bertha, how _horrible_ that would have been! No; he shouldn't have come. I shall always think so." Miss Forbes stared meditatively at the girl for a long minute; then she burst into what Jane was disposed to regard as unreasoning laughter of the variety which was once sapiently characterized as "the crackling of thorns under a pot." "I can't see," observed Jane, very grave and dignified, "why you should laugh. There was nothing to laugh about in what I said." Miss Forbes instantly grew sober. "Heaven forfend that you should ever see, my dear child," she observed in a grandmotherly tone, "and far be it from me to attempt an explanation! Suppose we talk about clothes, instead. And--how will you ever go to work to metamorphose that late imperious mistress of yours into a fond sister-in-law?"