I laughed.
"What are you two chatting about?" asked the voice of Mrs. Brand from within.
"I am only telling Miss Burns to mind Captain Craik," coolly replied Mrs.
Langton, "he was quite attentive the other night."
"Really, Mrs. Langton," I observed impatiently, "you forget the gentleman you allude to could be my father, and is, after all, a middle-aged man."
"A middle-aged man!" echoed Mrs. Langton, looking confounded. "You are hard to please, Miss Burns; a most elegant and accomplished gentleman—a middle-aged man!"
"If he were an angel, he is not the less near forty."
"Still talking of Captain Craik," rather uneasily observed Mrs. Brand, joining us, "Edith, dear, are you not afraid of the tooth-ache?"
"No, Bertha, dear."
"But I am for you. You must come in."
Mrs. Brand slipped her arm within that of her friend, and made her re- enter the drawing-room. But something or some one called her away, for in a few minutes, Mrs. Langton was again by me. She came on me suddenly, before I could efface the trace of recent tears. The evening was light and clear. She looked at me and said: