is!" he
exclaimed to himself the next day, as Mrs. Benson climbed into the wagon and started off to meet her fate. "But it's the way of women. They are as fickle as the wind." He thought bitterly of his own budding and now blighted hopes.
"Don't grieve for her, Daphne,'* said Mr, Burns, in a husky voice, as the wagon disappeared. "She was kind to me when I was crippled and cross, and I shall never forget her watchfulness and care for me under the most trying conditions. She is your mother, too, and that of itself is enough to inspire my everlasting gratitude. I have no respect for the man who fails to appreciate the woman to whom he is indebted for his wife."
"It is well for the three of us that we have learned our lesson, Rollin. We are all young yet, and all eternity is before us."
"Yes, Daphne! Eternity is both before and behind us. We are henceforth to be all in all to each other, as I believe we have been in the past, my darling."
"No, Mr. Burns, do not * darling * me yet. We must await the tardy action of that human imperfection called the law before I can honorably become your * darling.' "
Nevertheless, being human, she feigned not to notice the prolonged pressure of his hand at parting, nor did she refrain from answering his eager and tender gaze with a look that quickened every pulse and sent a thrill of gladness to his heart.
At the primitive hotel in the primitive little city of Portland, Mrs. Benson met an Indian woman, the mother of many children, who was introduced to her as Mrs. Addicks. The woman was richly and stylishly gowned and seemed much at home among the guests. Her mien and carriage were queenly, as she moved about the little parlor, exchanging a word here and there among the loiterers, with whom she seemed a general favorite.
"Haven't I met you somewhere before?" asked Mrs.
