artha, you see the baker must know, and he told me for a positive
fact. They're engaged."

"What! Has Hunt made it up with Gracie Jones? It's time for him. He has
been hanging after her long enough."

"Oh, sister, I am not alluding to anything plebeian."

"Well, my dear Maria, I'd be glad to know once for all to what you are
alluding, for, to be frank with you, I think your brain is going fast."

"It's Bee," said Miss Maria. "It's our Bee. She's engaged. It's all
settled."

"Beatrice engaged? I don't believe a word of it."

"It's true. Hunt said there wasn't a doubt of it, and he ought to know,
for he takes bread--"

"You needn't go on about the bread. To whom is Beatrice Meadowsweet
affianced?"

"To no less a person, Martha, than Captain Bertram, and there they are
in a boat by themselves on the water."

Mrs. Butler snatched up the spy-glass again, and after considerable
difficulty, and some mutterings, focussed it so as to suit her sight.
She was absolutely silent, as she gazed her fill at the unconscious
occupants of the green boat.

After a long time she put down the glass, and turned to her sister.

"We'll go upstairs and put on our bonnets, Maria, I should like to go
out. I want to call on the Bells."

Mrs. Bell had lately tried to connect herself with the outside world by
adopting a few of its harmless and inexpensive little fashions. She had
a day at home. This universal mode of receiving one's friends was not
generally adopted in Northbury, but Mrs. Bell, who had heard of it
through the medium of a weekly fashion paper which a distant cousin in
London was kind enough to supply her with, thought it would be both
distinguished and economical to adopt the system of only receiving her
friends on Thursdays.

She was laughed at a good deal, and considered rather upstartish for
doing so; but nevertheless, on Thursdays the friends came, being sure of
a good dish of gossip as well as sugared and creamed tea and home-made
cakes in abundance.

On Thursdays Mrs. Bell put on every ring and ornament she possessed. Her
one and only dark red tabinet--this was her wedding-gown let out and
dyed--adorned her stout figure, and then she sat in her drawing-room,
and awaited her company. Her daughters always sat with her, and they,
too, on these occasions, made the utmost of their poor wardrobes.

Mrs. Bell was in particularly good spirits on this special afternoon,
for rumors had as yet cast no shadows before, and