ouble about which I must not speak; and
for some reason which I cannot in the least understand, if you marry
Loftus that trouble will disappear."

"And you want it to disappear?"

"I would give all I possess to make my mother happy."

"Good, dear, little Kitty! You don't incline then to the belief that
your brother wants me for the guineas' worth!"

"Beatrice, I don't think Loftus is really sordid and he loves you. Oh,
how earnestly he told me that he loved you. And my mother, she often,
often talks of you, and I know she cares for you, Bee."

"Come into the house," said Beatrice, suddenly. "Now that you have come
you must spend the evening with me. We can send a messenger to the Manor
to tell them, and after tea you and I will go on the water. We'll have a
happy evening together, Kate, and we won't talk any more about Loftus,
no, not another word. If I do a thing I do it generously, but I will not
discuss the _pros_ and _cons_ even with, you any more."

CHAPTER XXII.

SPARE THE POOR CHILD'S BLUSHES.

It was Miss Peters who first spread the news. She heard it whispered at
the fishmonger's, spoken of aloud at the butcher's, and confirmed at the
baker's. She could doubt this combined testimony no longer, and hurried
home to put on her best bonnet with the wallflowers in it, and go forth
on a visiting tour.

Miss Peters was in the seventh heaven of delight. To have news, and such
news, to convey, would make her a welcome inmate that afternoon of every
house in Northbury. She was intensely anxious to go out and convey her
news without being accompanied by her large sister, Mrs. Butler. In Mrs.
Butler's presence Miss Peters was only a shadow, and she had no wish to
be a shadow on this occasion.

_She_ had heard the gossip, not Martha--why, therefore, should she
tell Martha for the sole satisfaction of having it repeated by Martha in
her own tiresome way to each neighbor she met, while she, poor Miss
Peters, who had really got the information first-hand--for the baker who
served the two families with bread was so absolutely reliable--could
only nod her head and roll her eyes in confirmation.

Miss Peters resolved, therefore, to tell her news to Mrs. Butler last of
all; and her object now was to slip softly out of doors without being
heard by her sister. She nearly accomplished this feat, but not quite.
As she was going downstairs, with her best bonnet on, her lavender
gloves drawn neatly over her hands, a