Clara Grant, notwithstanding the light manner in which the two young men had spoken of her, was a girl of good sense, good principles, and deep feeling, She had been several times addressed by young men before Fisher offered his hand; but, with all their attractions, there were defects about them, which her habits of close observation enabled her to see, that caused her to repel their advances, and in two instances to decline apparently very advantageous offers of marriage.  In the integrity of Fisher’s character, she had the most unbounded confidence; and she really believed, as she had said to Caroline Lee and others, that he was one of the purest-minded, most honourable young men living.

Judge, then, with what feelings she overheard, about half an hour after the plan to disturb her peace had been formed, the following conversation between Mears and his companion, carried on in low tones and in a confidential manner.  She was sitting close to one side of the folding-doors that communicated between the parlours, and they were in the adjoining room, concealed from her by the half-partition, yet so close that every word they uttered was distinctly heard.  Her attention was first arrested by hearing one of them say—­

“If she knew Fisher as well as I do.”

To which the other responded—­

“Yes; or as well as I do.  But, poor girl! it isn’t expected that she is to know every thing about young men who visit her.  It is better that she should not.”

“Still, I am rather surprised that common report should not have given her more information about Fisher than she seems to possess.”

“So am I. But she’ll know him better one of these days.”

“I’ll warrant you that!  Perhaps to her sorrow; though I hope things will turn out differently from what they now promise.  Don’t you think he is pretty well done with his wild oats?”

“Possibly.  But time will tell.”

“Yes, time proves all things.”

Some one joining the young men at this point of their conversation, the subject was changed.  Greatly amused at what they had done, they little thought how sad the effects of their unguarded words would be.

Five minutes afterwards, the young man named Mears, curious to see how Clara had been affected by what he knew she must have heard, moved to another part of the room, in order to observe her without attracting her attention.  But she had left the place where she was sitting.  His eye ranged around the room, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m afraid we’ve hurt Clara more than we intended,” he said, rejoining his friend.  “She has vanished.”

“Ah!  Where’s Fisher?”

“He’s at the other end of the room.”

“We didn’t say any thing against the young man.”

“Not in particular.  We made no specifications.  There was nothing that she could take hold of.”

“No, of course not.  But I wonder what is going to be the upshot of the matter?”