oughly, and he wondered if she were going to cry.
Finally he held her off from him and fairly shouted in his eagerness, "Darling, I have the most wonderful news in the world. All our problems are solved!"
Poor boy. His knowledge of their problems was so limited.
"You don't believe it? Well, look at this," and he pulled out two thin leather-bound volumes—the bank-book and the check-book. He was excited as a youngster. "They're yours, Carmelita. See—your name is on the bank-book."
"But I don't understand." It was indeed her name on the book and, opening the pages, she saw that there was $25,000 deposited to her credit. And the check-book was crisp and new. Was this a cruel joke?
She had sunk down upon the bed because she no longer trusted her knees, and he sat down beside her.
"It's my pay for the big deal I've put over for my uncle—the one I've been so mysterious about. The papers were signed to-day, and this is just an installment of my commission. Don't be afraid to take it. There's lots more coming. We're rich, Carmelita, rich—you can buy anything you like! Rent a whole village of Long Island estates if you want them! Our
