No one in Northbury ever remembered seeing Beatrice in a passion.  She was acknowledged to be sweet-tempered, and slow to be provoked.  On this occasion, however, she was very nearly making the proverbial exception to her general rule.  Beatrice was very nearly angry.  A flush of color crimsoned her cheeks and brow, and an indignant light flashed from her eyes.  In time, however, she was able to murmur to herself:  “This is only Mrs. Bell’s talk, and how could I be so silly as to mind Mrs. Bell?” So after a pause she said with effort, “I must congratulate Matty on her engagement; I am glad Matty is happy.”

“Ah, my dear, and well she may be!  Glad should I be to know that other girls had half so bright a future before them.  Rich, handsome, and young, that’s what Gusty is!  Devoted! he’s like one of the old knights for devotion.  I have had my qualms about the jealousy of his nature, but otherwise Gusty is, song pear and song reproach.”

At this moment the door was opened, some childish giggles and mirth were heard in the passage, and Matty rushed in, followed by the redoubtable Gusty.  “Oh, Gus, you’ll kill me!” she exclaimed; “you are too funny.  Why, ma, is that you?  And—­and—­Bee?  How do you do, Bee?”

Matty came over and kissed her friend awkwardly.

“I am very glad to hear of your happiness, Matty,” said Beatrice; “and I congratulate you, too, Augustus,” she added, turning to the bashful swain.

“Oh, you want us to leave this room to yourselves, you two naughty things!” said the mother, shaking her head in fat ecstasy over her two turtle-doves.  “Come, Bee; by-the-way, there’s a young girl upstairs, a Miss Hart, a friend of mine, who is very anxious to see you.”

Mrs. Bell and Beatrice left the drawing-room, and Augustus Jenkins turned to his fiancee “By Jove,” he said, “that girl is a bouncer!”

“What girl?” said Matty, in a quick jealous voice.  She had flung herself in a languid attitude on the sofa, now she sat bolt upright.

“Killing, I call her,” proceeded Gus; “simply killing.  Such an eye, such a curl of the lip!  By Jove—­she’d bowl any fellow over.”

Matty flushed deeply, and turned her head away to look out of the window.

“What’s up, now, little duck?” said the lover.  “Oh, she’s jealous, is she?  By George, that’s a good un!  You were in luck, missy, to come in my way first, or I don’t know what mightn’t have happened; and she’s got lots of the tin, too, I’ve been told!  So she’s Captain Bertram’s fancy.  Well, he’s a good judge and no mistake.”

“I don’t know that she’s his fancy at all, Gusty.  Ma always said that I—­I—­”

“Oh, by Jove!  Matty, don’t you try to come it over me like that.  What a thunder-cloud?  So she’s frightfully jealous, is she, poor little duck?  I say, though, you’d better keep me out of that girl’s way; engaged or not, she’d mash any fellow.  Now, what’s up?  Is that you, Alice?  What a noisy one you are, to be sure!”