“Yes,” said Mrs. Livingstone, settling herself a little more easily in her chair, “Yes, Mabel isn’t the same creature she was when she came to us, but then it’s no wonder, for love, you know, will work miracles.”

No answer from Nellie, who almost instinctively felt what was coming next.

“Upon my word, Miss Douglass, you’ve no curiosity whatever.  Why don’t you ask with whom Mabel is in love?”

“Who is it?” laughingly asked Nellie, nervously playing with the tassel of her blue silk apron.

After a moment, Mrs. Livingstone replied, “It may seem out of place for me to speak of it, but I know you, Miss Douglass, for a girl of excellent sense, and feel sure you will not betray me to either party.”

“Certainly not,” answered Nellie, rather haughtily, while her tormentor continued:  “Well, then, it is my son, and I assure you, both myself and husband are well pleased that it should be so.  From the moment I first saw Mabel, I felt for her a motherly affection for which I could not account, and if I were now to select my future daughter-in-law, I should prefer her to all others.”

Here ensued a pause which Nellie felt no inclination to break, and again Mrs. Livingstone spoke:  “It may be a weakness, but I have always felt anxious that John should make a match every way worthy of him, both as to wealth and station.  Indeed, I would hardly be willing for him to marry one whose fortune is less than Mabel’s.  But I need have no fears, for John has his own views on that subject, and though he may sometimes be attentive to girls far beneath him, he is pretty sure in the end to do as I think best!”

Poor Nellie!  How every word sank into her soul, torturing her almost to madness.  She did not stop to consider the improbability of what she heard.  Naturally impulsive and excitable, she believed it all, for if John Jr. really loved her, as once she had fondly believed, had there not been a thousand opportunities for him to tell her so?  At this moment Mabel reentered the parlor, and Nellie, on the plea of seeing to the dinner, left the room, going she scarce knew whither, until she found herself in a little arbor at the foot of the garden, where many and many a time John Jr. had sat with her, and where he would never sit again—­so she thought, so she believed—­and throwing herself upon one of the seats, she struggled hard to school herself to meet the worst—­to conquer the bitter resentment which she felt rising within her toward Mabel, who had supplanted her in the affections of the only one she had ever loved.

Nellie had a noble, generous nature, and after a few moments of calmer reflection, she rose up, strengthened in her purpose of never suffering Mabel to know how deeply she had wronged her.  “She is an orphan—­a lonely orphan,” thought she, “and God forbid that through me one drop of bitterness should mingle in her cup of joy.”

With a firm step she walked to the kitchen, gave some additional orders concerning the dinner, and then returned to the parlor, half shuddering when Mabel came near her, and then with a strong effort pressing the little blue-veined hand laid so confidingly upon her own.  Dinner being over, Mrs. Livingstone, who had some other calls to make, took her leave, bidding a most affectionate adieu to Mabel, who clung to her as if she had indeed been her mother.