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"You will spoil dose _beautiful_ clothes!" she finally exclaimed, looking in dismay through her tears at the reckless packer.
"It makes no difference," laughed Hope. "What are _clothes_! We will have the rest sent on after us. I suppose we've forgotten half what we really need, but that doesn't matter, either, does it, my Louisa?"
Louisa dried her tears and a.s.sisted until the trunk was packed and strapped. Then they took hold of hands and danced like children around it. Suddenly Hope stopped, her face growing white and fearful.
"_If he shouldn't forgive me!_" she exclaimed softly.
"Ah, but he lofs you!" said Louisa.
At that moment Mrs. Van Rensselaer opened the door and looked in.
"My dear," she began, then stopped in amazement. "What in the world----Why, you are going away!"
"Yes," replied Hope, putting her head down upon Clarice's soft evening wrap. "I am going back to----"
"But he has come to you, dear, and he is waiting right here in the hall!"
"No, no!" breathed the girl.
"But he _is_!" exclaimed Clarice, gently pushing the girl, still in all her white evening glory of gown, into the great hall. "And he carries his arm in a sling, so _do_ be careful!" she admonished, closing the door upon her.
From below came the indistinct murmur of many voices. Under the red glare of the lamp at the head of the broad staircase Livingston and Hope met in a happiness too great for words.
"Louisa," said Clarice Van Rensselaer, from her seat upon the trunk, "I hope you see it your duty to make a man of Sydney."
"_A man_," replied Louisa indignantly, "he is already de greatest man in all de whole world, and _I lof him_!"
FINISH.