"It's awful to see the thunder-clap that comes on Gusty's brow," the good lady would say. "And what I'm so terrified of is that if he and the captain meet they'll do each other a serious mischief. My poor child, she is the innocent cause, Well, well, she has been much sought after."

When Beatrice asked the Bells to become her bride's-maids, Mrs. Bell thought the time had arrived to let bygones be bygones, and to accept the proffered honor.

"It was the captain's wish, I make no doubt," she said to her husband; "he knew he hadn't a chance of winning the girl on whom his heart was set, but he thought, at least, he might have the pleasure of seeing her at his wedding, and, so to speak, looking his last on her. It's my belief, too, that he'll relieve his feelings by giving Matty a very beautiful present. She must hide it from Gusty, though; Gusty is so terrible in the jealous excess of his feelings."

As Beatrice had insisted on giving her bride's-maids their dresses, no difficulty could be experienced on that head, and the Bells, notwithstanding that stormy period which had gone before, enjoyed themselves immensely during the brief season of Beatrice's engagement.

Mrs. Bell certainly was happy during this time. If Matty was not engaged to Bertram she soon would be to a better man. Gusty Jenkins, as she invariably called him, was, of course, the better man now in her eyes. The three girls were being supplied with new and lovely dresses, in which Mrs. Bell assured her husband they'd look like angels wafted down fresh from the skies—for the occasion. When she said this, Bell did not agree with her, but that was not of the slightest consequence.

Mrs. Bell also during these happy weeks was making a little secret hoard of money, which further considerably added to the good lady's felicity.

That young visitor of the Bell's, Miss Hart, proved herself a most unobtrusive and retiring person. She was strangely reserved, no doubt, and would reveal none of the secret which she had dimly alluded to on the night of her arrival to Mrs. Bell, but she was chatty and pleasant enough to the girls when quite alone with them. She put them up to many small wrinkles with regard to their toilette, and insisted on dressing Matty's hair in a way which made it look both thick and becoming. When the Bells were quite alone she was present at their meals where she quite subjugated the hearts of Bell and his son, Albert. But when visitors appeared at the hospitable board Miss Hart would not present herself. She had a curious reserve about her, which everyone noticed at the time, and commented on largely by-and-bye. If the all-absorbing topic of the day, Beatrice's wedding, was discussed, she invariably grew grave, her face would become a shade paler than its wont, and her bright, restless eyes would be lowered.

Except on one occasion, she never asked questions about the approaching wedding. On the contrary, she markedly avoided the subject. Once, however, she inquired the date of the wedding from Matty. On hearing it she turned very pale, and left the room. Matty remembered this fact by-and-bye.

Once, too, Sophy saw her standing in her bedroom with her two hands pressed tightly to her side, as though something had given her an intense pain there. She was close to the window, and must have been looking out, and Sophy observed that Captain Bertram and Beatrice were walking down the street together.

Notwithstanding all Mrs. Bell's coaxings, Miss Hart would never go out during the day-time, but when darkness fell, and it came early now, in the beginning of September, she would wrap her gray cloak about her, and go away for long, long walks all alone.