“‘How vain the ardour of the crowd,
How low, how little are—’”
“Oh, that’s Grey, mother! But never mind! Come—Floy!” as a lady in front of them turned suddenly round.
“Hetty! you here? and your mother too?” cried Ethel, who had been made aware of their unexpected vicinity by the sound of the words and voices so familiar to her ear two years ago.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Goodenough, “we were just looking at those splendid jewels from New York.”
“We have just come to the city,” said Hetty; “arrived last night; and oh, I am so glad to have met you! for I have something to tell you.”
The eager, animated look and tone said that it was something of importance, and Ethel’s heart gave a wild bound. Was it news that would aid her in her quest?
She drew out her watch. “One o’clock: a good hour for lunch. Come with me to Public Comfort. You must be my guests.”
“Thank you!” and they went with her.