“Congratulations?  On what?” said she, beginning to flush scarlet.

Wharton stammered out:  “I was this moment told by a lady of your acquaintance that your engagement to Mr. Hazard was formally announced to-day.”

Esther grew as pale as she had been red, and answered quietly:  “When my engagement to any one is announced, I promise to let you know of it, Mr. Wharton, before the world knows it.”

He apologized and passed on.  Esther, shrinking back into her corner, struggled in vain to recover from this new blow.  Mrs. Murray, on returning, found her in a state of feverish excitement.

“I am being dragged in against my will,” said she.  “I am beyond my depth.  What am I to do?”

“Most women feel so at first,” replied her aunt calmly.  “Many want to escape.  Some are afterwards sorry they didn’t.”

“Have you heard of this too, and not told me?” asked Esther.

Mrs. Murray had thought too long over the coming trouble to hesitate now that the moment had come.  She had watched for the crisis; her mind was made up to take her share of the responsibility; so she now settled herself down to the task.  As the thing had to be done, she thought that the shortest agony was the most merciful.

“Yes!” she answered.  “Several persons have mentioned it to me, and I have had to profess not to know what they meant.”

“What did they say?” asked Esther breathlessly.

“The only one who has talked openly to me about it is your friend Mrs. Dyer.  The story came from her, and I believe she invented it.  Of course she disapproves.  I never knew her to approve.”

“What reason does she give?”

“She says that you are an amiable girl, but one given up to worldly pursuits and without a trace of religious principle; the last woman to make a clergyman’s wife, though you might do very well for an artist or somebody wicked enough for you, as I gathered her idea.  I am told that she amuses herself by adding that she never took Mr. Hazard for a clergyman, and the sooner he quits the pulpit, the better.  She is never satisfied without hitting every one she can reach.”

“What does she want?” asked Esther.

“I suppose she wants to break off the intimacy.  She thinks there is no actual engagement yet, and the surest way to prevent one is to invent one in time.”

Esther reflected a few minutes before beginning again.

“Aunt, do you think I am fit to be his wife?”

“It all depends on you,” replied Mrs. Murray.  “If you feel yourself fit, you are the best person in the world for it.  You would be a brand saved from the burning, and it will be a great feather in Mr. Hazard’s cap to convert you into a strong church-woman.  He could then afford to laugh at Mrs. Dyer, and all the parish would laugh with him.”

“Aunt!” said Esther in an awe-struck tone; “I am jealous of the church.  I never shall like it.”