"Ah! but your father has not made up his, Ruth," he seized her hands, "do you really love me? If you do not----"
"Don't get excited, Neil. If I did not love you I should tell you so. But I do love you, how, dearly you will never know."
"But it may be--my music you love," he urged.
"Conceited boy," laughed Miss Cass. "Of course I love your music, but I love you for yourself as well. Speak to my father. We will not keep our engagement secret any longer."
"I feel that we should not have kept it secret at all," murmured the young man. "After your father's kindness to me I feel somewhat of a traitor."
"You can lay the blame on me," announced the girl, calmly. "I wished it to be kept quiet on account of Aunt Inez. You know what she is--a jealous woman always putting her finger into everyone's pie. I'm sure she has quite enough to do in looking after her own husband. He is a wicked, gay old man, is uncle Marshall."
"I don't think Mrs. Marshall likes me."
"That is why I kept our secret. She does not like you; why, I do not know. And had she discovered our engagement she would have told my father and put an end to it long ago."
"Well, perhaps Mr. Cass will put an end to it even now."
Ruth looked round to see that no one was &bout, and then dropped a butterfly kiss on his forehead.