Meantime, the “news” was being whispered among the family inside and was received with general satisfaction, Sadie, particularly, expressing great delight in view of what she termed a “perfectly elegant match.”

Jennie, on the other hand, accepted it as a matter of course.

“It didn’t need to be announced, at least to me,” she declared, with a wise nod of her head.  “I’ve seen it coming this long while, for Science isn’t the only absorbing subject that a certain gentleman has been investigating during the last year and a half.  But just let me tell you—­if my name had been Jimmy instead of Jennie that handsome M.D. wouldn’t have found such clear sailing in this harbor.”

When Katherine finally came in, trying hard to appear unconscious, but looking rosy and starry-eyed, Sadie sprang forward and threw her arms around her, kissing her heartily.

Then drawing back, but still holding her a prisoner, she mockingly exclaimed: 

“Moss rosebuds!  Katherine, have you ever taken the trouble to ascertain what they mean when sent by a swain to a maid?”

“Oh!  Sadie, how you do love to tease!” cried the blushing girl as she tried in vain to release herself from the clinging arms.

“Well, honey,” continued her tormentor, “it was as plain as A B C to me that night, and I chuckled right smart to myself when I saw you innocently pin them, on your breast.  It was simply delicious!  But”—­suddenly laying her hands on the pretty brown head—­“bless you, my children! you have my unqualified sanction and I’ll put my whole heart into my toes when I dance at your wedding.”

With a light laugh the gay girl bounded to the piano and vigorously began playing Mendelssohn’s wedding march.  But Katherine had vanished.

Phillip Stanley, however, sitting on the veranda, across the way, caught the suggestive strains and laughed softly to himself, as, in imagination, he surmised something of what was going on in the Minturn mansion.

The following day brought Mr. Arnold to make his promised call upon Jennie and her friends, when, as the proud and happy girl had predicted, it did not require much discernment to realize that he was every whit a “gentleman.”  He told them, among other things, that his life had been rather a lonely one, as he had no family.  Several years after going to the East he had married the daughter of a planter, but she had been taken from him two years after their union, and he had never cared to marry again.

When his partner died he became sole proprietor of their business, which he had successfully conducted until he determined to return to America, when he had sold out to some of his clerks, satisfied to retire with a moderate fortune and allow them to have their day, as he had had his.

He brought with him letters, papers and numerous photographs which convinced Mr. Minturn that he was, in truth, akin to Jennie and entitled to be her future protector, as he both desired and claimed the right to be.