“Yes, by the crowd that surrounds her. I wonder if she will ever give up her place as a reigning belle? It looks to-night as if that shop-girl were going to step in! Ten thousand pardons; I forget that she was a special friend of yours.”
“You mean Miss Laurence. She is a friend that I am proud to own.”
“But you will not own her long, as Miss Laurence, let me tell you. What luck some people have! She is engaged.”
“Indeed! Since when, and to whom?” said Ivon, indifferently, for he had no faith in Miss Spicer’s sources of information.
“I don’t know when; but the man I am certain of. It is Mr. Ross.”
“Mr. Ross!”
Ivon was aroused now; the very name startled him. Other thoughts crowded in. Why had the Carters taken such sudden interest in the girl? Why had she accepted his declaration of love, but so resolutely refused his hand?
“Has the news struck you dumb?” exclaimed Miss Spicer, with a short laugh. “One would think so.”
“Idle gossip, Miss Spicer, seldom has that power over me.”
“Gossip! Why, the engagement is declared. I got it from Mrs. Carter herself.”