In the library of Mrs. Thomas Tyndall's Chicago home Mr. Stanley G. Fulton was impatiently awaiting the appearance of Miss Maggie Duff. In a minute she came in, looking charmingly youthful in her new, well-fitting frock.  
The man, quickly on his feet at her entrance, gave her a lover's kiss; but almost instantly he held her off at arms' length.
 
"Why, dearest, what's the matter?" he demanded.
 
"W-what do you mean?"
 
"You look as if—if something had happened—not exactly a bad something, but—What is it?"
 
Miss Maggie laughed softly.
 
"That's one of the very nicest things about you, Mr. Stanley-G.-Fulton-John-Smith," she sighed, nestling comfortably into the curve of his arm, as they sat down on the divan;—"that you NOTICE things so. And it seems so good to me to have somebody—NOTICE."
 
"Poor lonely little woman! And to think of all these years I've wasted!"
 
"Oh, but I shan't be lonely any more now. And, listen—I'll tell you what made me look so funny. I've had a letter from . You know I wrote them—about my coming marriage."
 
"Yes, yes," eagerly. "Well, what did they say?"
 
Miss Maggie laughed again.
 
"I believe—I'll let you read the letter for yourself, Stanley. It tells some things, toward the end that I think you'll like to know," she said, a little hesitatingly, as she held out the letter she had brought into the room with her.
 
"Good! I'd like to read it," cried Fulton, whisking the closely written sheets from the envelope.
 
MY DEAR MAGGIE (Flora had written): Well, mercy me, you have given us a surprise this time, and no mistake! Yet we're all real glad, Maggie, and we hope you'll be happy. You deserve it, all right. Poor Maggie! You've had such an awfully hard time all your life!
 
Well, when your letter came, we were just going out to Jim's for an old-fashioned Thanksgiving dinner, so I took it along with me and read it to them all. I kept it till we were all together, too, though I most bursted with the news all the way out.
 
Well, you ought to have heard their tongues wag! They were all struck dumb first, for a minute, all except Mellicent. She up the very first thing, and clapped her hands.
 
"There." she cried. "What did I tell you? I knew Aunt Maggie was good enough for anybody!"
 
To explain that I'll have to go back a little. We were talking one day about you—Jane and Mellicent and me—and we said you were a saint, only not a marrying saint. But Mellicent thought you were, and it seems she was right. Oh, of course, we'd all thought once Mr. Smith might take a fancy to you, but we never dreamed of such a thing as this—Mr. Stanley G. Fulton! Sakes alive—I can hardly sense it yet!
 
Jane, for a minute, forgot how rich he was, and spoke right up real quick—"It's for her money, of course. I KNEW some one would marry her for that fifty thousand dollars!" But she laughed then, right off, with the rest of us, at the idea of a man worth twenty millions marrying ANYBODY for fifty thousand dollars.
 
Benny says there ain't any man alive good enough for his Aunt Maggie, so if Mr. Fulton gets to being too highheaded sometimes, you can tell him what Benny says.
 
But we're all real pleased, honestly, Maggie, and of course we're terribly excited. We're so sorry you're going to be married out there in Chicago. Why can't you make him come to Hillerton? Jane says she'd be glad to make a real nice wedding for you—and when Jane says a thing like that, you can know how much she's really saying, for Jane's feeling awfully poor these days, since they lost all that money, you know.
 
And we'd all like to see Mr. Fulton, too—"Cousin Stanley," as Hattie always calls him. Please give him our congratulations—but there, that sounds funny, doesn't it? (But the editors in the magazines say we must always give best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the .) Only it seems funny here, to congratulate that rich Mr. Fulton on marrying you. Oh, dear! I didn't mean it that way, Maggie. I declare, if that sentence wasn't 'way in the middle of this third page, and so awfully hard for me to write, anyway, I'd tear up this sheet and begin another. But, after all, you'll understand, I'm sure. You KNOW we all think the world of you, Maggie, and that I didn't mean anything against YOU. It's just that—that Mr. Fulton is—is such a big man, and all—But you know what I meant.
 
Well, anyway, if you can't come here to be married, we hope you'll bring him here soon so we can see him, and see you, too. We miss you awfully, Maggie,—truly we do, especially since Jim's folks went, and with Mr. Smith gone, too, Jane and I are real lonesome.
 
Jim and Hattie like real well where they are. They've got a real pretty home, and they're the biggest folks in town, so Hattie doesn't have to worry for fear she won't live quite so fine as her neighbors—though really I think Hattie's got over that now a good deal. That awful thing of Fred's sobered her a lot, and taught her who her real friends were, and that money ain't everything.
 
Fred is doing splendidly now, just as steady as a clock. It does my soul good to see him and his father together. They are just like chums. And Bessie—she isn't near so disagreeable and airy as she was. Hattie took her out of that school and put her into another where she's getting some real learning and less society and frills and dancing. Jim is doing well, and I think Hattie's real happy. Oh, of course, when we first heard that Mr. Fulton had got back, I think she was kind of disappointed. You know she always did insist we were going to have the rest of that money if he didn't show up. But she told me just Thanksgiving Day that she didn't know but 't was just as well, after all, that they didn't have the money, for maybe Fred'd go wrong ag............