pliment, and insisted on filling his bowl a second time.
After dispatching this, he went to the table and examined the willow-work. Then he asked if she would not show him the names which he once saw lettered with white beads on broad-cloth."
She opened a drawer and drew them out. He looked them over and selected hers at once.
"I would like to keep this," he said.
She was silent.
"May I?" he added.
"It is but a trifle," she answered; "I don't suppose they will care."
"When you work in beads again," he said, "I hope that you will make my name."
"I think I shall," answered Nattie.
"He looked at her with a pleased smile, held out his hand, and said:
"Good-bye, Nathalie."
How strange, and yet how grateful that name sounded in her ears!
