The first step under the circumstances was clearly a visit to the Newts, and the ring which had sent Mrs. Newt from the room was Mrs. Dinks’s.

Mrs. Dagon was alone when Mrs. Dinks entered, and Mrs. Dagon was by no means sure, whatever she said to Nancy, that Mrs. Dinks had not outwitted them all.  As she entered Mrs. Dagon put up her glasses and gazed at her; and when Mrs. Dinks saluted her, Mrs. Dagon bowed behind the glasses, as if she were bowing through a telescope at the planet Jupiter.

“Good-morning, Mrs. Dagon!”

“Good-morning, Mrs. Dinks!” replied that lady, still contemplating the other as if she were a surprising and incomprehensible phenomenon.

Profound silence followed.  Mrs. Dinks was annoyed by the insult which Mrs. Dagon was tacitly putting upon her, and resolving upon revenge.  Meanwhile she turned over some illustrated books upon the table, as if engravings were of all things those that afforded her the profoundest satisfaction.

But she was conscious that she could not deceive Mrs. Dagon by an appearance of interest; so, after a few moments, Mrs. Dinks seated herself in a large easy-chair opposite that lady, who was still looking at her, shook her dress, glanced into the mirror with the utmost nonchalance, and finally, slowly drawing out her own glasses, raised them to her eyes, and with perfect indifference surveyed the enemy.

The ladies gazed at each other for a few moments in silence.

“How’s your daughter, Mrs. Alfred Dinks?” asked Mrs. Dagon, abruptly.

Mrs. Dinks continued to gaze without answering.  She was resolved to put down this dragon that laid waste society.  The dragon was instantly conscious that she had made a mistake in speaking, and was angry accordingly.  She said nothing more; she only glared.

“Good-morning, my dear Mrs. Dinks,” said Mrs. Newt, in a troubled voice, as she entered the room.  “Oh my! isn’t it—­isn’t it—­singular?”

For Mrs. Newt was bewildered.  Between her husband and Mrs. Dagon she had been so depressed and comforted that she did not know what to think.  She was sure it was Fanny who had married Alfred, and she supposed, with all the world, that he had, or was to have, a pretty fortune.  Yet she felt, with her husband, that the private marriage was suspicious.  It seemed, at least, to prove the indisposition of Mrs. Dinks to the match.  But, as they were married, she did not wish to alienate the mother of the rich bridegroom.

“Singular, indeed, Mrs. Newt!” rejoined Mrs. Dinks; “I call it extraordinary!”

“I call it outrageous,” interpolated Mrs. Dagon.  “Poor girl! to be run away with and married!  What a blow for our family!”

Mrs. Dinks resumed her glasses, and looked unutterably at Mrs. Dagon.  But Mrs. Dinks, on her side, knowing the limitations of Alfred’s income, and believing in the Newt resources, did not wish to divert from him any kindness of the Newts.  So she outgeneraled Mrs. Dagon again.