of absenting himself during the visit of the directors, although he very naturally preferred not to meet the father of the young lady to whom he had been engaged to be married. He spent many hours vainly trying to solve the problem, and had consulted with Douglas, who offered to write to Mr. McAdams and inform him of the identity of their well-known engineer. But it was finally decided to await the coming of the magnates and let Waters do the explaining for himself, as there was some probability that the sun-tanned, athletic engineer, in his rough mining suit, would not be identified by those who knew him when he wore the handsome uniform of the army.

It was a lovely June day when the special train brought the president and directors to Walla. When the party arrived, Waters was at work, having declined the invitation of Douglas to dine with his distinguished guests. It was long past the noon hour, and Waters was directing the making of a new level, more than two hundred feet from the mouth of one of the mines, when his attention was attracted by the ringing of a bell, the signal that visitors were coming down in the car. Unfortunately for him, it stopped on the ledge where he was at work. In the party were several ladies, who, probably fearful of soiling their dresses, did not accompany the directors when they explored the new level. Waters met Mr. McAdams, but as soon as he had taken his hand found it imperatively necessary to leave to give some needed instructions to the work

men.

When the visitors returned to the car, Waters followed them in the distance, and, unobserved, saw Florence. In an instant he realized that the severe training to which he had subjected his heart was barren of results, and he forgot his resolution never to think of her again except as an old acquaintance who had passed out of his life. The very first

glance he caught of her face by the light of the miner's lamp set his heart to beating like the big hammer in the crushing mill, and the old desire to possess her love was as strong as ever. The bell rang, and the car started on its upward trip. Waters was safe for the time, but he knew that it was his duty to talk with the president before the visitors went away, and he did not know whether to trust to chance and talk to him as Waters, or explain why he had changed his name. He felt assured that Florence would know him, and he quickly realized what a terrible blunder he had made when he assumed a false name, something no man should ever do. If unfortunately the name given him in infancy has been disgraced, it is far more manly to redeem it by a correct life than to try to conceal the false step under an assumed name. It was of no use to moralize or to waste time lamenting his blunder when the question was to be decided how to meet Florence and her father.

It is easy to plan, but plans sometimes go awry, especially when others are trying to upset them. Waters left the mine when the men quit work, determined that he would not see Florence, but would have a few minutes' talk with her father next morning before commencing his day's work. When he entered the quarters by a private door, he found Douglas awaiting him, and learned that his friend, anticipating his scheme, had arranged for dinner to be served at six o'clock, reserving a seat for Waters next to Florence. He was about to decline, when Douglas laughingly said:

"Old man, you are a good engineer, but your plans fail sometimes. Here's a topographical map of our table. Note your location, next to the most valuable lode to be found in that social mine."

"I thank you, Douglas, but I cannot accept," replied Waters, after looking at the diagram. "Consideration for

Miss McAdams' feelings, if nothing else, would prevent me, for my presence might be embarrassing to her. She is in every sense a lady, but might unintentionally resent my presumption."

"I am too good a friend of yours," replied Douglas, gravely, "to try to place. you in a false position. Keep cool and I will tell you a secret. She knows all about you, and I believe loves you more than ever. At first she was critical of your action in changing your name, but on reflection concluded that you had done right. She says you will be back in the army in less than six months."

"Don't play with me, Douglas. cannot permit even you, the best friend man ever had, to speak lightly of my crushing sorrow."

"Cheverus—you are Waters no longer -have you no better opinion of me than to suppose for one moment that I would dare to deceive you or be indifferent as to the feelings of the daughter of our president? I had a long conversation with Mr. McAdams and his daughter. The astute president recognized you in the mine, but was too considerate of you to make the fact known. Both of them are highly elated at having discovered you, for they never for a moment believed you guilty, and have now the sworn testimony of that infamous Count and his accomplices exposing the entire plot. This has been presented to the Secretary of War, and a Board of Inquiry is making investigation. When it has been completed you will be appointed by the President, captain of engineers. Now, do you question my sincerity?"

Cheverus took his friend's hand and held it for some minutes, and then simply said:

"Deo gratias."

Seeing how deeply he was affected, Douglas added:

"Now, let the past alone, and help me to make this dinner worthy of our distinguished guests. We must show them

that, though we live in the Colorado hills and burrow in the ground for our daily bread, we have not forgotten the ways of civilized life. Dress quickly in your best, for I want you to meet Miss McAdams and her father in the 'drawingroom' before dinner. They will not refer to the past, unless you introduce the subject, but there is not the slightest reason why you should not discuss it if you wish, at any time or in any place. Now, be a good boy, and be careful of your toilet, for this will be a memorable night in the history of the Walla mines, and in the lives of some of our guests."

An hour later, the young engineer, handsomer than ever, was standing by the side of Florence McAdams in the rude reception room, the crude decorations of which were in striking contrast with those of her home. They were talking of old times when her father entered, his face beaming with pleasure. tending both hands, he advanced to Cheverus, saying:

Ex

"Here is our young old friend, whose skill has saved the Walla company from financial ruin. Cheverus, you have done well for us, and we haven't forgotten you. How mysterious is the unfolding of some lives. While you were working to add to our stock of gold, we were busy in restoring to you what is more precious than all the yellow metal on earth. Douglas tells me you know all. I am in a hurry as usual, so I hope you will excuse me. I appoint Florence my representative to entertain you. She is an obedient daughter, sometimes, and will do the best she can, I am sure. Tell me, when is that dinner to be announced, for this Colorado air has made me as ravenous as a wolf. But before I go, I must say that as soon as you receive your commission as captain, I shall insist upon your resigning and taking charge of these mines. The salary is equal to at least that of a brigadier. Douglas will come back to New York

to be a plunger in Wall Street, and you are to be the grand commander of the whole thing. If you don't accept, I'll see that the Senate holds up your commission," added the good-natured millionaire, as he left the young couple to entertain themselves.

They had many things to talk about, and did scant justice to the fine dinner, which Mr. McAdams noticed, and said:

"How strange it is that the appetite of young people is generally so poor, while we old fellows experience no trouble in properly complimenting the chef by giving practical evidence of our appreciation of his skill."

Towards the close of the dinner, Cheverus found an opportunity of saying:

"Florence, I promised myself never to seek you until I was reinstated in the army, but now, thanks to you and your noble father, the future is so bright that

I want permission. May I ask, is there any hope-"

Florence held up the hand upon which sparkled the diamond engagement ring which Leon had placed there nearly three years before, and said:

"It has not been off my finger since it was first put there."

The wheel of success frequently rolls rapidly, and Captain Cheverus, the day after his marriage, forwarded his resignation to the Secretary of War, that he might take charge of the great Walla mines, his wife's bridal present from her father.

When the young couple moved into their fine new mansion, Aunt Harriet was appointed housekeeper, and she never grew tired of saying:

"I jess thanks de good Lord dat He 'spired me not to let Miss Florence marry da no 'count furrinner."

NOTE "At the opening of the fifteenth century Catholic Europe was still kneeling before Mary, whose cathedrals, already secularized, were being finished with admirable constancy. At that time poor companions made their tour of France, offering their hammers and trowels wherever the piety of the faithful was raising churches; most of them asked no payment; they got bread and roots to eat and slept on the bare ground. One hundred thousand workmen were seen working in this way, for two centuries, at the

Cathedral of Strasburg, which Bishop Werner had dedicated to Mary. Some of these workmen were wholly devoted to the construction of chapels in honor of the Blessed Virgin; they wrought for the love of God and refused all other employment. Amongst these were some who imposed on themselves the daily fabrication of a certain number of oak leaves, trefoil or arabesques; this pious task was called the 'stone-cutters' chaplet.' -Abbe Orsini in "History of Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary."

F our life shines, the next life to it must catch the light." The quotation is for you, dear Girl, who came the other day with that heavy complaint on your lips. You had just finished school. You had carried off the honors of your class. You had been awarded a medal for exemplary conduct. Your faith gave a radiance to your face and with you hope seemed an actual presence.

In less than three months you came back to us, bitter, unhappy, disap-. disappointed. You were a long time-that is, it seemed long to you, while there were others who considered you quite fortunate-in getting a position. This was something of a shock to your sensibilities. You thought one so capable would naturally gravitate to her proper place; and then you had prayed so fervently for a good position, and you had tried to live so righteously, it did not seem that God could refuse to give your petition immediate attention.

Finally, you secured work. At first you were glad enough, but soon-how very soon!-the voice of dissatisfaction began to be heard. At first it was only a whisper, but gradually its tones increased in loudness until now it makes a perpetual din in your heart. Perhaps the office boy was impertinent, your employer cross one morning? It was only a trifle, but it was a spark to your pride. You to have to endure that from them! No, you say, it was not that. The office boy is a model of courtesy, and your employer is kindness itself. It is the hard work and the low salary.

Oh, yes! Everybody, sooner or later, bumps against that condition. It is a condition so great, so tragic, so teeming with possibilities of which we shudder to think, that, as a social condition, we forbear from touching on it. Of one thing, however, we are absolutely cer

tain the workers of the world represent that son in the Gospel story who did the will of his father, and God will eventually right His own. It may take some time, as time seems to us, but come it will. In the meantime

You run a typewriter ten hours a day, for eight and one-third cents an hour. Yes, it is unjust, but it is a condition of things for which neither you nor your employer is responsible, and which neither of you could alter, alone, no matter how hard you might try. There are girls who work the same number of hours for six and two-thirds cents and five cents per hour. If your path led you to a wall of solid masonry, you would not waste time and effort trying to throw it down; so we workers have to accept this industrial condition, in the larger hope.

It

Oh! you cry, I'm not troubling myself about the industrial condition! is enough for me to know that I am working for five dollars a week, while other girls, not nearly so capable, receive ten dollars and twelve dollars for the same kind of work, with shorter hours.

There, my dear Girl, you announce yourself to be very selfish. It is your duty, and the duty of every worker, to think about the industrial condition. Do you think that if the working women of these United States gave some thought to the social condition, the women and children in the coal mines would be facing cold and starvation this winter? You owe it to yourself and your co-laborers to think about it: to yourself, because what effects one part of the body social, effects all the parts; to your co-laborers, because we are directly commanded to bear one another's burden.

But to come to this question of your capability and the larger salary of the