“How are you, Matty?” she said.  “Oh, pray don’t let us disturb you.  Is that you, Augustus?  I’m pleased to see you, young man.  I used to dandle you when you were an infant—­good gracious, what red hair you had, and—­it hasn’t changed, not at all!  Now, Matty, my dear, what are you blushing about?  You have caught your young man at last, and much luck may you both have.  If—­’ if at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.’  You have tried again, Matty, and I congratulate you.  You may kiss me, Matty, if you like.  Maria, you may kiss Matty Bell.  She’s engaged to Gusty.  Well, Gusty, you are a sly one.  Never once have you been near my house since your return.  Better employed, you will say.  Ha, ha, I know young men.  Marry in haste and repent at leisure.  But come over now and sit near me by this window.  I shouldn’t object to a dish of gossip with you, not at all.  Do you remember that day when you had your first tooth out?  How you screamed?  I held your hands, and your mother your head.  You were an arrant coward, Gusty, and I’m frank enough to remind you of the fact.”

Just then, to Augustus Jenkins’ infinite relief, Mrs. Bell entered the room; he was spared any further reminiscences of his youth, and he and Matty were thankful to escape into the garden.

After the necessary congratulations had been gone through, and Mrs. Bell had bridled, and looked important, and Mrs. Butler had slapped her friend on the shoulder, and given her elbow a sly poke, and in short gone through the pleasantries which she thought becoming to the occasion, the ladies turned to the more serious business in hand.

Mrs. Butler, who prided herself on being candid, who was the terror of her friends on account of this said candor, asked a plain question in her usual style.

“Maria, go to the window and look out.  Now, Mrs. Bell, you answer me yes or no to this.  Has Captain Bertram a wife concealed in this house, or has he not?  In short, is my throat naked for no rhyme or reason!”

Mrs. Bell, who could not quite see what Mrs. Butler’s throat had to say to a clandestine wife of Captain Bertram’s, stared at her friend with her usual round and stolid eyes.

“I think your brain must be wandering, Martha Butler,” she said.  “I don’t know anything about your throat, except that it is very indelicate to wear it exposed, and as to Captain Bertram having a wife here, do you want to insult me after all these years, Martha?”

“I want to do nothing of the kind, Tilly Bell.  I only want to get at the naked truth.”

“It was your naked throat a minute ago.”

“Well, they hang together, my throat and the truth.  Has that young man got a wife in this house, or has he not?”

“He has not, Mrs. Butler, and you forfeit my friendship from this minute.”

“Oh, I forfeit it, do I? (Come, Maria, we’ll be going.) Very well, Mrs. Bell, I have forfeited your friendship, very well.  And there’s no young woman who oughtn’t to be here, concealed on these premises. (Maria, stay looking out at the window for a minute.) There’s no strange young woman here, oh, of course not.  Poor Bell, honest man, only fancies he has a visitor in the house.”