I wrote home, and informed my anxious parents where I was; and I made up my mind to make trade my life business. Step by step I advanced, for I was faithful, and I am happy to say, possessed considerable business talent.

I arrived at the dignity of clerk in due time; then I was book-keeper, and three years ago, when Mr. Story retired from the firm, I became the junior partner. Eighteen months afterward Johnstone died, and I bought out his heirs, so I am now head of the establishment.

People call me a good-looking fellow, and I don't pretend to dispute with them. It is extremely impolite to contradict folks, you know. I think myself that I am passable, though I have always wished my hair had been black, instead of reddish-brown. But I wont color it; I have got a little too much pride for that.

Well, about a year ago, I found that business required my presence in Chicago. An hour or two before I was ready to start, my particular friend, Tom Jasher, came rushing into my counting-room.

"Stanford,” cried he, "I've a great favor to ask of you."

“Anything, my dear fellow,” said I. “Anything I can do for you will be a great pleasure."

"I told Nettie you would," said he, "but she insisted you wouldn't! She-"

"Humph!" said I. "Women are selfish creatures, and judge everybody by themselves. I am sure, Tom, I should be delighted to oblige you!"

"Thank you. It will be such a relief to me. You see, I was going to Chicago myself, to hunt up some claims the first of the week-"

"Give them into my hands, Tom," said I; "I'll attend to them."

"O" said Tom, coolly, "John Nason went last night, and he's going to see after that business. I should have gone myself, but you see the baby was taken sick, and Nettie will not consent that I should leave it. And, indeed, I do not wish to."

"Confound the babies!" said I, mentally, but not audibly; for Tom Jasher, good fellow as he is, is a perfect spoony on babies! So I said, aloud:

"Well, trust your business to me, old friend."

"I shall always remember it in you, Fred," said he, speaking a little hesitatingly, as if he

feared, after all, that Nettie might have judged me more correctly than himself. "I want to get you to take charge of a woman—a ladyas far as Chicago."

"Goodness gracious, Tom Jasher!" exclaimed I, "you know I detest—"

"O, now don't be foolish, Stanford!" replied he. "This is none of your giggling young girls. She is my wife's earliest friend-they love each other like sisters; and she is a very nice, sober-minded, cultivated lady. She never faints away, nor carries bandboxes; and she will give you no trouble at all. She is going to her family in Chicago. I should have gone with her, but, as I was saying, the baby took cold, and he's croupy, and there are symptoms of pneumonia; and all the relief he gets is in onion poultices and yellow snuff."

"Babies are a nuisance!" said I, gruffly.

"O no, indeed!" ejaculated Tom. "Why, my dear fellow, we couldn't think of living without our little Freddy! Named him after you, my boy. Named him last night. Nettie decided on it. She said there was no one in the world, after me, of course, that she thought so highly of as Frederick Stanford; and she thought Freddy was such a pretty name!"

“Indeed!” said I, a great deal mollified, and not a little pleased at having a child named after me-we all have our weaknesses, you know "indeed, Jasher, this is unexpected; decidedly so."

"It is nothing more than you deserve, Stanford," said Tom, enthusiastically, grasping my hand; and I thought there were tears in his eyes, but it might have been the effect of my cigar smoke, for the room was full of it. "You are a good fellow, Stanford-a deuced good fellow! Your principal failing is your dislike of women and babies; but I live in the hope that you will get over it in time. If you could only see Freddy now! The darling! it would do you good to hear him try to say papa! It is perfectly charming!" And Tom rubbed his hands, and got very red in the face, and looked as happy as if he had just heard that his grandfather was dead, and had willed him half a million.

After a moment he partially subsided, and went back to the old subject.

"What do you say to taking charge of the

lady ?"

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, and answered, bravely:

"I'll do it, Jasher. I suppose, if she's the

reasonable person you represent her to be, that she'll not be expecting me to do the agreeable to her? All I shall have to see after will be her luggage, and getting her something to eat?"

"Yes," said Jasher, in such a peculiar tone that I could not tell whether the fellow was ridiculing me or not. "All a woman wants is to have her baggage seen after, and some victuals to eat now and then."

Jasher took his leave, promising to be at the station in good season, with my travelling companion.

I need not tell the reader how blue I felt over the arrangement to which I had consented. I wanted to oblige my friend, but I much rather he had asked me to endorse his note for ten thousand.

I was at the depot early. If there is anything I hate, it is being hurried on my way to a depot. Hurrying destroys a man's dignity, and it wilts his collar, especially if he wears paper; and it generally makes him sweat, and then his hat produces a red streak on his forehead, and he is apt to get out of breath, and out of temper, also. I bought my tickets, and paced the platform impatiently. I wished Jasher would come. I felt some curiosity to see the lady who was to be my travelling companion. Nothing more than a natural feeling, you know.

Time wore on-the first bell struck, and still he did not arrive. I was nearly determined to go on board the cars, for I am one of those men who have an aversion to the rush for seats at the last minute. I have no special ambition to get my name into the newspapers, by falling between the cars some day in getting into them, and having my legs cut off, or my head crushed. Not at all!

Just as I was going on board, Jasher came, hot, and flurried, and breathless. He had a lady on his arm whom he presented to me. I understood the name, Mrs. Graves, or Gaines, I could not tell which. Jasher was so out of breath that he could not articulate very plainly. She was rather a small woman, for which I was thankful, for if there is anything I deprecate it is a woman of the Amazonian mould. It is too much of a good thing.

I saw in the newspaper the other day, that the most disagreeable way which women have with them, is to weigh two hundred! And the genius who wrote that paragraph is wise. It is truth, double-distilled and boiled down.

Mrs. Graves wore a gray travelling-suit,

just short enough to show her charming little foot; and a small foot was always my admiration, notwithstanding I was a woman-hater; her dress was trimmed in black, and she had on a brown hat with a scarlet rose in front, and a blue veil all over her head and face.

"Homely as sin!" said I, to myself; "pretty women never wear veils-that is, thick ones." Jasher had got the baggage checked and the tickets bought. These were transferred to me, together with the neatly-gloved hand of Mrs. Graves, and I escorted her into a car. It was not very crowded, and I gave her a seat just in front of mine, for I had decided that I would not sit on the same sofa with her. I did not care to be quite so near a woman as that; for if I did, she would expect me to talk to her, and tell her the names of the stations, and buy her Lady's Books, and oranges, and photographs, and peanuts, when the venders went through the cars. Not that I begrudged the money, but you see I did not want to be agreeable to any woman.

I had just got myself comfortably fixed, with my overcoat on the seat beside me, and my newspaper spread out, when in sailed a woman full six feet high, and stout in proportion, with her arms full of a poodle, a bandbox, a big paper parcel, a satchel, and a pot of verbenas. And before I could lift hand or voice to prevent her, she had plumped herself down beside me, bundles and all, spread her stiff, hooped petticoat over my knees, and set her bandbox and parcel into my lap with the remark:

"Here, mister, just you hold them things. I've got the verbenas and Pet to take care of, and that's enough for me. Dear me! can't you set over a little? I'm awfully crowded!"

I was on the point of dropping her luggage, stepping unceremoniously over her, and tak ing a seat with Mrs. Graves, but just as I was rising for that purpose, a nice-looking young gentleman, with curly black hair, entered the car, laid his daintily.gloved hand on the back of her seat, and asked the question:

"Is this seat engaged, madam ?" "No sir," replied the sweetest voice I had ever heard; and I have a fine ear for music.

her, for he hated the sex, but because he had so much better a seat than I had. For my partner smelled of musk and onions; and one of these odors alone is bad enough, but combine them, and it is dreadful!

The curly-haired fellow made himself intensely agreeable to her. He bought a comic paper, and they laughed over it together, and by-and-by he bought some popped corn, and they ate that together. I was fairly boiling with rage, and when Mrs. Poodle addressed me a question, I answered her so sharply that the poodle barked and made a snap at my elbow. Sagacious little cuss! he must have known that I had murder in my heart. After a while we came to a stopping-place. The curly-haired fellow put his shawl over the back of the seat, to keep his place for him, and went out. Quick as thought I piled the boxes into Mrs. Poodle's lap, stepped over her, and took the seat the young man had just vacated.

Mrs. Graves looked up at me in evident surprise. She had removed her veil now, and I was atonished to see how pretty she was. I had expected she was elderly, and this lady could certainly not be more than twenty-five, I thought. I was thirty. I had long before decided that she was a widowprobably that was what her dress was trimmed in black for.

I honored her now with a good look. Her hair was a rich, golden brown, and gathered into a knot behind, from which strayed a few careless ringlets; none of your detestable waterfalls, composed of curled hair, old stockings, split zephyr, black yarn, and dirty horsehair. She had a clear complexion, with a dash of crimson in the cheeks, brown eyes, and a mouth that-well, I was an old bachelor then, and did not believe in women; but I did think I wouldn't mind touching those red lips with my own, just to see how it would seem; for, in all my life, I had never kissed any woman but my mother-if I except Aunt Peggy, who had the catarrh and took snuff.

Before many moments elapsed, the curlyhaired young man returned, and looked daggers and butcher-knives at me.

"This is my seat, sir," said he, with an air of authority.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said I. "This lady is under my charge, and I claim the right to sit with her."

"Under your charge!" said he, with a look of surprise. "Then why the deuce didn't you sit with her before ?"

"I-I-thought she would be more comfortable with the seat to herself," said I. "I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but you can take the seat I have just left." And I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder, to the seat Mrs. Poodle occupied.

"Thank you for the suggestion," said the young man, "but I prefer the smoking-car." Which proved him to be a very sensible fellow, after all.

Well, it wasn't half so bad as it might have been, to sit beside my travelling companion. She did not smell of musk, and she had no bundles, poodles, nor bandboxes. The wind came in at a crack of the window, and I fixed a shawl to keep it out, and somehow I touched her hand. What a thrill went through me! It was like taking a shock from a galvanic battery, only rather pleasanter.

Pretty soon we fell to talking. I do not remember what we commenced about, but I recollect distinetly that I was surprised to find how sensible she was. It was a little curious to me where a woman ever managed to pick up so many ideas; and it was still more curious how she knew just what to say and where to say it.

To cut a long matter short, we had an exceedingly pleasant day of it; and when night came, Mrs. Graves went off to sleep with her head on my coat, and a shawl piled up against the side of the car. But by-and-by I fell to thinking that the road was so rough and the the cars jolted so, that she would not rest well, and then I wondered how I could fix her better.

The lights had burned very dim-evidently kerosene was scarce-and the passengers were all asleep and snoring, as people never snore anywhere except in a railway-car, and

well, you see I pitied her poor head, bobbing round so with every jolt, and I just drew it down to my shoulder and put my arm around her to keep her in place. I hope no one will be unkind enough to blame me for so doing; it was all the result of my naturally kind heart, you know.

You ask me how I felt? Why, as if I had swallowed a couple of rainbows washed down with cologne and otto of roses! Probably I was not quite in my right mind with the novelty of the sensation, and that was what made me kiss her; and after the first kiss, somehow there didn't seem to be any stopping-place. But then I had never had any practice, and I wanted to perfect myself, you know.

I did not sleep any that night'; it seemed as if I ought not to sleep; somebody might have picked my pocket, or there might have been a collision, or something might have happened, and so I had to kiss Mrs. Graves now and then to keep me awake.

Next morning she awakened as fresh and rosy as a pink just blossomed. She asked me if I had rested well, and I told her yes, delightfully! How pretty and refreshed she looked. Not gray, and stupid, and red-eyed, as everybody else did, but just as bright as if she had slept in her own bed at home.

I don't believe that any of us begin to realize how much of our good looks is due to a judicious use of soap and water, and fine combs; but a few days and nights' travel on a railway will wake us up to an understanding of it; for if any one has beauty enough to make them look decent after a night's rest (?) in a railway-car, then they never need be afraid that time will destroy their beauty; for what a night, under the circumstances mentioned, can't do, time can't do either.

By-and-by we came to a refreshment stopping-place, and there we all washed our faces and got something to eat. And such a cup of coffee as I had! It was nectar! She sweetened it for me, which is the only reason I know of for its superiority.

Ah, well! that was a delightful journey, but I must not be too lengthy in describing it. A little while before we would reach Chicago, Mrs. Graves turned to me and said: "Mr. Stanford, I cannot express the gratitude I feel toward you for your kindness. I am afraid I have given you a great deal of trouble-"

"Trouble!" interrupted I. "Whatever I have done has been a pleasure!"

"You are very gallant to say so; but I know what a nuisance you consider all women, and-"

"Not such women as you," said I, cursing the luck that had revealed my predilections to her, and making a vow that when I saw Tom Jasher, I would blow him up for telling her.

“Thank you.” And she laughed in a way perfectly bewitching. "You are very good; and now that our journey is almost at an end, perhaps you had better give me my checks. Charles will be at the depot to meet me, and he will relieve you from the trouble of seeing after my luggage. Dear old fellow! how delighted I shall be to see him. Only think! I have been absent from him four long months."

Charles!

My heart seemed bursting the moment she spoke that name with such a longing accent of fondness.

Charles! how I despised that cognomen! I heard of a man once named Charles who was hung. Mentally I wished this Charles could speedily meet the fate of his namesake.

And I had supposed she was a widow. Jasher had said she was going to join her family. Well, who should her family be but her husband and children?

Good heavens! and there was no denying it; I had fallen in love with her. I might as well own it first as last. I ought to have known that if she had been a widow she would not have worn that red rose on her hat; but then women were up to all sorts of dodges about dress. And here I had been hugging her, and kissing her, and pressing her hand-and she another man's wife! And I was angry enough with this abominable Charles to wring his neck; and so full of pain and despair that I would have swallowed a teacup full of laudanum with pleasure.

Evidently she thought I did not hear her request, for directly she repeated it; and I gave her the little bits of brass with a deep sigh which I could not smother.

"You do not look well, Mr. Stanford," said she, kindly. "I fear the journey has not been pleasant to you.”

"I am perfectly well, thank you," I growled; and took out a newspaper and pretended to read the rest of the way. I caught her looking at me out of the corner of her eye in a half-amused sort of way, but I flattered myself I had managed to conceal from her the state of my feelings.

"Chicago!" bawled the conductor. And I assisted my fair companion to alight; and hardly had her feet touched the platform, before a tall, fair man, with reddish whiskers, had her in his arms, and they were kissing each other as if they were used to it.

"Dear Charles," said she, pressing closely to his side, "I am so glad to see you. This is Mr. Stanford, who has been very kind to me all the way. Mr. Jasher's friend."

I bowed, and felt myself very much de trop. "Good-morning," said I, stiffly, and was walking away. She touched my arm, and I turned around and faced her. Her cheeks were very red, and her eyes were bright as diamonds, and the dear little crimson mouth I had kissed so many times, was puckered up into its most persuasive smile as she said:

"Please call at No. 47 S street, and see us, wont you?"

I thanked her, and signified that I would do so; but I had no more idea of it than I had of calling at No. 47 S-street in the

moon.

I went to a hotel, ordered a room, and flung myself on the bed, as much cut up generally as any hero of a fine novel; and I ought to have been seeing after my business. But what does a man care for business whose heart is broken?

After a while I rose, and put on a clean collar, and washed the cinders out of my eyes. I felt a little better, but I could not be contented to sit down and think; I wanted excitement of some kind. I thought I would go to the theatre. I looked in a daily, and saw that there was to be a concert in a hall near by. I went there, and the first face I saw after entering the room was hers!

And beside her was that execrable Charles, and on the other side of him a young lady, who was pretty, I suppose; but I did not notice her much then. I had no eyes for anybody or anything, save Mrs. Graves.

The music was applauded vociferously, but I do not to this day know whether it was Yankee Doodle or Old Hundred.

She was dressed in crimson, with a white opera cape over her shoulders, and the daintiest little pink hood that ever you saw on her head. It looked like a wreath of foam with the sun shining on it.

Suddenly there was a cry of fire. There generally is, if ever you've noticed, when a building gets very full of people who are enjoying themselves. It is not often that there really is any fire; but everybody thinks there is, and in the rush for safety any quantity of bones are broken, and the bone-setters got lots of jobs. It has long been my opinion that the people who raise the cry of fire at such places are hired by the surgeons, so that they may get a few extra jobs.

At that ominous cry, every person in the house sprang up, and the scene which ensued baffles description. The strong bore down the weak-women and children were trodden under foot, and no mercy was shown to any one. Each one was bent on saving his own life.

I fought my way through the crowd till I reached her side. Pale and terrified she clung to the arm of Charles; and he had his arm, I noticed, around the waist of the other woman. I took Mrs. Graves's hand and drew

her toward me. She gave a little glad cry at sight of me. Then I put my arm around her and my face close down to hers.

"Will you trust yourself with me?" I asked. "O yes," she said, eagerly. "It is all Charles can do to take care of Minnie."

I carried her out of a side door into a wide corridor opening upon a back piazza, and where no one had thought of seeking egress. By this time I knew that there was no fire, and I had been sure enough of that from the first; but the crush of the crowd, frantic and half-crazed as they were, was frightful, and it was indeed a relief to get out of it. The lady was terrified, and clung to me in a way perfectly delightful; and I put both arms around her, entirely forgetting she had a Charles.

"I wish I knew if they were safe," said she. "Who?" said I.

"Charles and Minnie.”

I dropped my arms.

"Probably your husband is safe enough," said I, feeling as if some one had struck me suddenly blind.

"My husband! I hope he is," said she, in an amused tone; "but I do not know who he is yet."

"Not know?" cried I, eagerly. "Is it possible? My dear Mrs. Graves, tell me the truth! Who is this Charles ?"

"He is my brother. It was his wife with him-"

"My darling!" I exclaimed, getting her into my arms again, and stopping all further explanation in a way which is familiar to all lovers, I suppose. "And now tell me if I may not hope ?"

She did not tell me, but I took her silence for consent.

"My little darling, I love you! And please tell me your first name, dear; I cannot very well call you by your last one now. Mrs. Graves is so formal."

"My name is not Graves," said she, archly. "O, then it was Gaines ?"

"Neither. I suppose Mr. Jasher's introduction was too much hurried for him to be very particular."

Then what is your name ?" "Grey.”

"And the Christian name?" "Fanny."

A light broke over me.

"Fanny Grey! Good gracious! you don't pretend to say—”

"Yes I do," said she, nestling a little closer to me. "Dear old Fred, don't be over