“Is it possible?” said Mrs. Livingstone.

“Why, yes,” returned Mrs. Atkins.  “There’s nothing to prevent it, they say, except a moneyed marriage on the part of Nellie, who seems to be doing her best.”

“Has she any particular one in view?” asked Mrs. Livingstone, and Mrs. Atkins, aware of Mrs. Livingstone’s aversion to the match, replied, “Why, you know she tried to get your son——­”

“But didn’t succeed,” interrupted Mrs. Livingstone.

“No, didn’t succeed.  You are right.  Well, now it seems she’s spreading sail for a Mr. Wilbur, of Madison——­”

Mrs. Livingstone’s eyes sparkled eagerly, and, not to lose one word, she drew her chair nearer to her friend, who proceeded; “He’s a rich bachelor—­brother to Mary Wilbur, Nellie’s most intimate friend.  You’ve heard of her?”

“Yes, yes,” returned Mrs. Livingstone.  “Hasn’t Nellie been visiting her?”

“Her or her brother,” answered Mrs. Atkins.  “Mary’s health is poor, and you know it’s mighty convenient for Nellie to go there, under pretense of staying with her,”

“Exactly,” answered Mrs. Livingstone, with a satisfied smile, and another hitch of her chair toward Mrs. Atkins, who, after a moment, continued:  “The brother came home with Nellie, stayed over Sunday, rode out with her Monday, indorsed ever so many notes for her father, so I reckon, and then went home.  If that don’t mean something, then I’m mistaken”—­and Mrs. Atkins rang for a glass of wine and a slice of cake.

After an hour’s confidential talk, in which Mrs. Livingstone told of Mabel’s prospects, and Mrs. Atkins told how folks who were at Mr. Graham’s party praised ‘Lena Rivers’ beauty, and predicted a match between her and Mr. Bellmont, the former rose to go; and calling upon one or two others, and by dint of quizzing and hinting, getting them to say “they shouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Wilbur did like Nellie Douglas,” she started for home, exulting to think how everything seemed working together for her good, and how, in the denouement, nothing particular could be laid to her charge.

“I told Nellie no falsehood,” thought she.  “I did not say John loved Mabel; I only said she loved him, leaving all else for her to infer.  And it has commenced operating, too.  I could see it in the spots on her face and neck, when I was talking.  Nellie’s a fine girl, though, but too poor for the Livingstones;” and with this conclusion, she told the coachman to drive faster, as she was in a hurry to reach home.

Arrived at Maple Grove, she found the whole family, grandma and all, assembled in the parlor, and with them Durward Bellmont.  His arm was thrown carelessly across the back of ’Lena’s chair, while he occasionally bent forward to look at a book of prints which she was examining.  The sight of him determined her to wait a little ere she retailed her precious bit of gossip to her son.  He was Nellie’s cousin, and as such, would in all probability repeat to her what he heard.  However communicative John Jr. might be in other respects, she knew he would never discuss his heart-troubles with any one, so, upon second thought, she deemed it wiser to wait until they were alone.