Miss Newt made no observation, but took up a gayly-bound book from the table and looked carelessly into it. Mrs. Dagon rose to go. She had somewhat recovered her composure.
“Don’t think I believed it, dear,” said she to Fanny, in whom, perhaps, she recognized some of the family character. “No, no—not at all! I said to every body in the room that I didn’t believe what Mrs. Kite said, that you were hugging Mr. Dinks in the waltz. I believe I spoke to every body I knew, and they all said they didn’t believe it either.”
“How kind it was of you, dear Aunt Dagon!” said Fanny, as she rose to salute her departing relative, “and how generous people were not to believe it! But I couldn’t persuade them that that beautiful lace-edging on your dress was real Mechlin, although I tried very hard. They said it was natural in me to insist upon it, because I was your grand-niece; and it was no matter at all, because old ladies could do just as they pleased; but for all that it was not Mechlin. I must have told as many as thirty people that they were wrong. But people’s eyes are so sharp—it’s really dreadful. Good-morning, darling Aunt Dagon!”
“Fanny dear,” said her mother, as the door closed upon Mrs. Dagon, who departed speechless and in what may be called a simmering state of mind, “Abel will be here in a day or two. I really hope to hear something about this Miss Wayne. Do you suppose Alfred Dinks is actually engaged to her?”
“How should I know, mother?”
“Why, my dear, you have been so intimate with him.”
“My dear mother, how can any body be intimate with Alfred Dinks? You might as well talk of breathing in a vacuum.”
“But, Fanny, he is a very good sort of young man—so respectable, and with such good manners, and he has a very pretty fortune—”
Mrs. Newt was interrupted by the servant, who announced Mr. Wetherley.
Poor Mr. Zephyr Wetherley! He was one of the rank and file of society—one of the privates, so to speak, who are mentioned in a mass after a ball, as common soldiers are mentioned after a battle. He entered the room and bowed. Mrs. Newt seeing that it was one of her daughter’s visitors, left the room. Miss Fanny sat looking at the young man with her black eyes so calmly that she seemed to him to be sitting a great way off in a cool darkness. Miss Fanny was not fond of Mr. Wetherley, although she had seen plainly enough the indications of his feeling for her. This morning he was well gloved and booted. His costume was unexceptionable. Society of that day boasted few better-dressed men than Zephyr Wetherley. His judgment in a case of cravat was unerring. He had been in Europe, and was quoted when waistcoats were in debate. He had been very attentive to Mr. Alfred Dinks and Mr. Bowdoin Beacon, the two Boston youths who had been charming society during the season that was now over. He was even a little jealous of Mr. Dinks.