“Now, coz,” said Durward, pulling her down upon the sofa by his side, “now, coz, I claim a right to know something about this letter.  Was it one of acceptance or rejection?”

“Acceptance, of course,” answered Nellie, who, knowing no good reason why her intended tour should be kept a secret, proceeded to speak of it, telling how they were to visit Scotland, France, Switzerland, and Italy, and almost forgetting, in her enthusiasm, how wretched the thought of the journey made her.

“And Miss Wilbur’s brother is to be your escort—­he is unmarried, I believe?” said Durward, looking steadily upon the carpet.

In a moment Nellie would have told of his engagement, and the object of his going, but she remembered Mary’s request in time, and the blush which the almost committed mistake called to her cheek, was construed by all into a confession that there was something between her and Mr. Wilbur.

“That accounts for John’s sudden churlishness,” thought ’Lena, wondering how Nellie could have deceived him so.

“Oh, I see it all,” exclaimed Mabel.  “I understand now what has made Nellie so absent-minded and restless these many days.  She was making up her mind to become Mrs. Wilbur, while I fancied she was offended with me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” answered Nellie, without smiling in the least.  “Mary Wilbur wishes me to accompany her to Europe, and I intend doing so.  Her brother is nothing to me, nor ever will be.”

“Quite a probable story,” thought Mr. Everett, without forming his reflections into words.

Toward the middle of the afternoon, a violent ringing of the door-bell, and a heavy tramp in the hall, announced some new arrival, and Nellie was about opening the parlor door, when who should appear but John Jr.!  From his room he had watched the departure of the party, one moment wishing he was with them, and the next declaring he’d never go to Frankfort again so long as he lived!  At length inclination getting the ascendency of his reason, he mounted Firelock, and rushing furiously down the ’pike, never once slackened his speed until the city was in sight.

“I dare say she’ll think me a fool,” thought he, “tagging her round, but she needn’t worry.  I only want to show her how little her pranks affect me.”

With these thoughts he could not fail to meet Nellie otherwise than coldly, while she received him with equal indifference, calling him Mr. Livingstone, and asking if he were cold, with other questions, such as any polite hostess would ask of her guest.  But her accustomed smile and usual frankness of manner were gone, and while John Jr. felt it keenly, he strove under a mask of indifference, to conceal his chagrin.  Mabel seemed delighted to see him, and for want of something better to do, he devoted himself to her, calling her Meb, and teasing her about her “Indian locks,” as he called her straight, black hair.  Could he have seen the bitter tears which Nellie constantly forced back, as she moved carelessly among her guests, far different would have been his conduct.  But he only felt that she had been untrue to him, and in his anger he was hardly conscious of what he was doing.