The heavy jar of the street door was heard at this moment.
"He's gone, I do believe!"
And so it proved. What else little Mary said to him was never known, as the violent scolding she received when her mother got hold of her, sealed her lips on the subject, or drove all impressions relating thereto from her memory.
Mr. Bebee never called again.
THE FATAL ERROR.
"CLINTON!" said Margaret Hubert, with a look of supreme contempt. "Don't speak of him to me, Lizzy. His very name is an offence to my ears!" and the lady's whole manner became disturbed.
"He will be at the ball to-night, of course, and will renew his attentions," said the friend, in an earnest, yet quiet voice. "Now, for all your expressions of dislike, I have thought that you were really far from being indifferent to Mr. Clinton, and affected a repugnance at variance with your true feelings."
"Lizzy, you will offend me if you make use of such language. I tell you he is hateful to me," replied Miss Hubert.
"Of course, you ought to know your own state of mind best," said Lizzy Edgar. "If it is really as you say, I must confess that my observation has not been accurate. As to there being anything in Mr. Clinton to inspire an emotion of contempt, or create so strong a dislike as you express, I have yet to see it. To me he has ever appeared in the light of a gentleman."