at present, for their owner, Almeda
Champney. Aileen's smile grew wonderfully tender, almost tremulous as
she continued to lean above her work. Mrs. Champney looking up suddenly
caught it and, in part, interpreted it. It angered her both unreasonably
and unaccountably. This girl must be taught her place. She aspiring to
Champney Googe! She handed her back the work.

"Ann said just now she heard Octavius telling you that my nephew,
Champney Googe, is in town--when did he come?"

"I don't know--Tave didn't say."

"I wonder Alice Van Ostend didn't mention that he was coming here before
going on the yachting cruise they've planned. I had a letter from her
yesterday--I know you'd like to hear it."

"Of course I should! It's the first one she has written you, isn't
it?--Where is it?" She spoke with her usual animated interest.

"I have it here."

She took up one of several letters in her lap, opened it, turned it
over, adjusted her glasses and began to read a paragraph here and there.
Aileen listened eagerly.

"I suppose I may as well read it all--Alice wouldn't mind you," said
Mrs. Champney, and proceeded to give the full contents. It was filled
with anticipations of the yachting cruise, of a later visit to Flamsted,
of Champney and her friends. Champney's name occurred many
times,--Alice's attitude towards the possessor of it seemed to be that
of private ownership,--but everything was written with the frankness of
an accepted publicity of the fact that Mr. Googe was one of her social
appendages. Aileen was amused at the whole tone of the rather lengthy
epistle; it gave her no uneasiness.

Mrs. Champney laid aside her glasses; she wanted to note the effect of
the reading on the girl.

"You can see for yourself from this how matters stand between these two;
it needn't be spoken of in Flamsted outside the family, but it's just as
well for you to know of it--don't you think so?"

Aileen parried; she enjoyed a little bout with Champney Googe's aunt.

"Of course, it's plain enough to see that they're the best of friends--"

"Friends!" Mrs. Champney interrupted her; there was a scornful note in
her voice which insensibly sharpened; "you haven't your usual common
sense, Aileen, if you can't read between these lines well enough to see
that Miss Van Ostend and my nephew are as good as engaged."

Aileen smiled, but made no reply.

"What are you laughing at?" The tone was peremptory and denoted extreme
irritation. Aile