And Cora laughed immoderately, for she much enjoyed her sister-in-law's discomfiture.
But Miss Arthur did not dismiss the matter from her mind, when she banged the door upon Céline. Angry as she had been with that damsel, it was not anger alone that moved her. Jealousy was at work, and suspicion.
That evening, sitting beside her lover, she said to him, carelessly: "By the way, Edward, were you ever in Baltimore?"
The gentleman stroked his blonde whiskers, and smiled languidly as he answered: "In Baltimore? Oh, yes; I think there are few cities I have not visited." And then something in the face of Miss Arthur made him inquire, with a slight acceleration of speech: "But why do you ask?"
Miss Arthur considered for a moment, and replied: "My maid, Céline, thinks that she has seen you there."
She was watching him keenly, and fancied that he looked just a trifle annoyed, even when he smiled lazily at her, saying: "Indeed! And when is your maid supposed to have seen me there?"
"I don't know when,"—Miss Arthur was beginning to feel injured; "I suppose you are well known in society there?"
He smiled and still caressed his chin. "So so," he said, indifferently.
"Edward!"—the spinster could not suppress the question that was heavy on her mind—"were you ever engaged to a lady in Baltimore?"
He turned his blue eyes upon her in mild surprise. "Never," he said, nonchalantly.