CHAPTER XXXV.

MOTHER-IN-LAW AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.

Mrs. Dinks and Hope Wayne sat together in their lodgings, waiting impatiently for Alfred’s return.  They were both working busily, and said little to each other.  Mrs. Dinks had resolved to leave New York at the earliest possible moment.  She waited only to have a clear explanation with her son.  Hope Wayne was also waiting for an explanation.  She was painfully curious to know why Alfred Dinks had told his mother that they were engaged.  As her Aunt Dinks looked at her, and saw how noble and lofty her beauty was, yet how simple and candid, she was more than ever angry with her, because she felt that it was impossible she should ever have loved Alfred.

They heard a carriage in the street.  It stopped at the door.  In a moment the sound of a footstep was audible.

“My dear, I wish to speak to Alfred alone.  I hear his step,” said Mrs. Dinks.

“Yes, aunt,” answered Hope Wayne, rising, and taking her little basket she moved toward the door.  Just as she reached it, it opened, and Alfred Dinks and Fanny Newt entered.  Hope bowed, and was passing on.

“Stop, Hope!” whispered Alfred, excitedly.

She turned at the door and looked at her cousin, who, with uncertain bravado, advanced with Fanny to his mother, who was gazing at them in amazement, and said, in a thick, hurried voice,

“Mother, this is your daughter Fanny—­my wife—­Mrs. Alfred Dinks.”

As she heard these words Hope Wayne went out, closing the door behind her, leaving the mother alone with her children.

Mrs. Dinks sat speechless in her chair for a few moments, staring at Alfred, who looked as if his legs would not long support him, and at Fanny, who stood calmly beside him.  At length she said to Alfred,

“Is that woman really your wife?”

“Yes, ’m,” replied the new husband.

“What are you going to support her with?”

“I have my allowance,” said Alfred, in a very small voice.

“Mrs. Alfred Dinks, your husband’s allowance is six hundred dollars a year from his father.  I wish you joy.”

There was a sarcastic sparkle in her eyes.  Mrs. Dinks had long felt that she and Fanny were contesting a prize.  At this moment, while she knew that she had not won, she was sure that Fanny had lost.

Fanny was prepared for such a reception.  She did not shrink.  She remembered the great Burt fortune.  But before she could speak Mrs. Dinks rose, and, with an air of contemptuous defiance, inquired,

“Where are you living, Mrs. Dinks?”

Mr. Alfred looked at his wife in profound perplexity.  He thought, for his part, that he was living in that very house.  But his wife answered, quietly,

“We are at Bunker’s, where we shall be delighted to see you.  Good-morning, Mrs. Dinks.”

And Fanny took her husband by the arm and went out, having entirely confounded her mother-in-law, who meant to have wished her children good-morning, and then have left them to their embarrassment.  But victory seemed to perch upon Fanny’s standards along the whole line.