Miss Newt made a demure courtesy.

"So you've really come home for good? Well, Abel, I'm glad. Now you're
here I shall have a man of my own to attend me next winter. And there's
to be the handsome Boston bride here, you know, next season."

"Who is she?" said Abel, laughing, sinking into a chair. "Mother wrote
me you said that all Boston girls are dowdy. Who is the dowdy of next
winter?"

"Mrs. Alfred Dinks," replied Fanny, carelessly, but looking with her
keenest glance at Abel.

He, sprang up and began to say something; but his sister's eye arrested
him.

"Oh yes," said he, hurriedly--"Dinks, I've heard about Alfred Dinks.
What a devil of a name!"

"Come, dear, you'd better go up stairs and see mamma," said Fanny; "and
I'm so sorry you missed Aunt Dagon. She was here this morning, lovely as
ever. But I think the velvet is wearing off her claws."

Fanny Newt laughed a cold little laugh. Abel went out of the room.

"Master Abel, then, does know Miss Hope Wayne," said she to herself. "He
more than knows her--he loves her--or thinks he does. Wouldn't he have
known if she had been engaged to her cousin?"

She pondered a little while.