“Ah! you sly thing!  How you have deceived us?  How long have you been engaged, and when is the event to come off?  Do tell us about it.”

“Well, I only received her father’s permission to-day—­something I was afraid I would never get, so the time has not been set.”

“Come, Dexie!” looking up to see how her sister took the news, “you have not congratulated Mr. Traverse yet on his approaching marriage.”

“I have not heard your congratulations, either, Gussie; but I believe Mr. Traverse will not doubt the sincerity of mine as I fear he may yours.”

The retort struck home, as Dexie intended it should; she felt hurt, and was glad of the chance to say something sharp to relieve her feelings.

“Well, it is to be hoped that the future Mrs. Traverse is a little milder in her manner than you are; he has endured a good deal from your sharp tongue lately, and needs a change.  Mr. Traverse seems to be waiting for your congratulations, Dexie,” she added, as she noticed how intently Guy was regarding her.

“I hope it is not needful for me to assure Mr. Traverse how glad I am to hear of his approaching marriage,” came the cool, stiff words from Dexie’s lips.  “I hope that hereafter he will see fit to bestow his obnoxious attentions exclusively on the lady of his choice.”

“Why, Dexie,” said her mother in surprise, “you are forgetting yourself.”

“I stand adjudged!” and Guy smiled serenely, as he exchanged looks with Mr. Sherwood.  “But I regret to say that the lady in question has not cared to monopolize my attentions so exclusively as I could wish, and they have overflowed, as it were, upon others occasionally.  I beg to hope, Miss Dexie, that in the future you will have no cause to consider my attentions obnoxious.”

“Well, give me your attention just now, Mr. Traverse,” said Gussie, lifting up a skein of silk for him to hold, and beginning to wind it off.  “Does the future Mrs. Traverse indulge in this work?”

“Well, now, I really don’t know, Miss Gussie; but if the knowledge of it is important I am sure she can do it, though I may never have seen her at it.”

Dexie was suffering agonies of mind.  Who could it be that had won his heart?  It must be someone he had known before coming to Lennoxville, and his visits away from town were not always on business matters.  She sat listening to every word with a beating heart, but those who were watching her closely could read no word from that quiet, immovable face.

“Do tell us something about this city girl of yours,” Gussie said, teasingly.  “We have been so intimate that it is only fair to tell us something about her.  Is she tall or short, a blonde or brunette, and what kind of work is she usually at when you go to see her? or is she a society lady with nothing to do but dress up and look pretty?  Perhaps she paints; that is fashionable now.”

“Paints!  No, never!  ’Her cheeks are like the rose, that in the garden blooms,’ and so on, but for all that, I am sure she does not paint!”