She repeated some of her aunt's best-known tales, and good Mrs. Parker never dreamed of the possibility of her caller being any one but worthy Miss Betsey Trinkett, of Wayborough, whom she had known for years.
Mrs. Parker was a great talker, and usually she was obliged to fight hard to surpass Miss Trinkett in that respect. During the first part of the call to-day it was as difficult as usual, but Mrs. Parker presently made a remark which reduced her visitor to a state of alarming silence.
"I suppose you have come to announce the news," said the hostess, smiling sympathetically.
"Now I don't know a bit of news. Why, my dear Mrs. Parker, Silas and I we never—"
"Ah, but this has nothing to do with Silas, though it may affect you, more or less. Surely you know what I am alluding to?"
"I haven't the least idea."
And Cynthia bridled with curiosity on her own account as well as Aunt Betsey's. She thought something interesting must be coming.
"Well, now, to think of my being the one to tell you something about your own family! I don't know whether I ought to, but I think it must be true, and you'll hear it in other ways soon enough. You know I have relatives in Albany, where she lives."
"Where who lives?"
"Miss Gordon, Hester Gordon. They say—but, of course, I don't know that it's true, it may be just report, but they do say— I don't know whether I ought to tell you, I declare! that it won't be long before she's Mrs. Franklin."