“Oh!  I know we can’t afford it.  But it would be so pleasant if he could drive out his cousin Hope, as so many of the other young men do.  People get so well acquainted in that way.  Have you observed that Bowdoin Beacon is a great deal with her?  How glad Mrs. Beacon would be!” Mrs. Dinks took off her cap, and was unpinning her collar, without in the least pressing her request.  Not at all.  His word was enough.  She had evidently yielded the point.  The horse was out of the question.

Now the state of the country did not so entirely engross her husband’s mind, that he had not seen all the advantage of Hope’s marrying Alfred.

“It is a pleasant thing for a young man to have his own horse.  My dear, I will see what can be done,” said he.

Then the diplomatist untied his cravat as if he had been undoing the parchment of a great treaty.  He fell asleep in the midst of rehearsing the speech which he meant to make upon occasion of his presentation as foreign minister somewhere; while his beloved partner lay by his side, and resolved that Alfred Dinks must immediately secure Hope Wayne before Fanny Newt secured Alfred Dinks.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FINE ARTS.

The whole world of Saratoga congratulated Mrs. Dinks upon her beautiful niece, Miss Wayne.  Even old Mrs. Dagon said to every body: 

“How lovely she is!  And to think she comes from Boston!  Where did she get her style?  Fanny dear, I saw you hugging—­I beg your pardon, I mean waltzing with Mr. Dinks.”

But when Hope Wayne danced there seemed to be nobody else moving.  She filled the hall with grace, and the heart of the spectator with an indefinable longing.  She carried strings of bouquets.  She made men happy by asking them to hold some of her flowers while she danced; and then, when she returned to take them, the gentlemen were steeped in such a gush of sunny smiling that they stood bowing and grinning—­even the wisest—­but felt as if the soft gush pushed them back a little; for the beauty which, allured them defended her like a fiery halo.

It was understood that she was engaged to Mr. Alfred Dinks, her cousin, who was already, or was to be, very rich.  But there was apparently nothing very marked in his devotion.

“It is so much better taste for young people who are engaged not to make love in public,” said Mrs. Dinks, as she sat in grand conclave of mammas and elderly ladies, who all understood her to mean her son and niece, and entirely agreed with her.

Meanwhile all the gentlemen who could find one of her moments disengaged were walking, bowling, driving, riding, chatting, sitting, with Miss Wayne.  She smiled upon all, and sat apart in her smiling.  Some foolish young fellows tried to flirt with her.  When they had fully developed their intentions she smiled full in their faces, not insultingly nor familiarly, but with a soft superiority.  The foolish young fellows went down to light their cigars and drink their brandy and water, feeling as if their faces had been rubbed upon an iceberg, for not less lofty and pure were their thoughts of her, and not less burning was their sense of her superb scorn.