Elizabeth was shaking her head reflectively as I passed the door, and saying:  “Ah—­no compromise.  And always, always the love of beauty.”  And I heard her advising Alice never, never to be one of the foolish women and men who hurt themselves by dreaming of beauty or happiness in their narrow little lives; repeating sagely that this dream was even worse for the women than for the men; and asked whether Alice supposed the Crafts Settlement address wouldn’t probably be in the New York telephone-book.  Alice seemed to be spending a very gratifying afternoon.

My sister Elizabeth’s strongest instinct from her early youth has been the passion inspiring the famous Captain Parklebury Todd, so often quoted by Alice and Billy:  “I do not think I ever knew a character so given to creating a sensation.  Or p’r’aps I should in justice say, to what, in an Adelphi play, is known as situation.”  Never has she gratified her taste in this respect more fully than she did—­as I believe quite accidentally and on the inspiration of these words with Alice—­in taking the evening train to New York with Mr. Goward.

Twenty or thirty people at the station saw them starting away together, each attempting to avoid recognition, each in the pretence of avoiding the other, each with excited manners.  So that, as both Peggy and Elizabeth have been born and brought up here; as, during Mr. Goward’s conspicuous absence and silence, during Peggy’s illness, and all our trying uncertainties and hers, in the last weeks, my sister had widely flung to town talk many tacit insinuations concerning the character of Mr. Goward’s interest in herself; as none of the twenty or thirty people were mute beyond their kind; and as Elizabeth’s nature has never inspired high neighborly confidence—­before night a rumor had spread like the wind that Margaret Talbert’s lover had eloped with her aunt.

Billy heard the other children talking of this news and hushing themselves when he came up.  Tom learned of the occurrence by a telephone, and, after supper, told Cyrus and myself; Maria was informed of it by telephone through an old friend who thought Maria should know of what every one was saying.  Lorraine, walking to the office to meet Charles, was overtaken on the street by Mrs. Temple, greatly concerned for us and for Peggy, and learned the strange story from our sympathetic neighbor, to repeat it to Charles.  At ten o’clock there was only one person in the house, perhaps in Eastridge, who was ignorant of our daughter’s singular fortune.  That person was our dear girl herself.

Since my own intelligence of the report I had not left her alone with anybody else for a moment; and now I was standing in the hall watching her start safely up-stairs, when to our surprise the front-door latch clicked suddenly; she turned on the stairs; the door opened, and we both faced Charles.  From the first still glances he and I gave each other he knew she hadn’t heard.  Then he said quietly that he had wished to see Peggy for a moment before she went to sleep.  He bade me a very confiding and responsible good-night, and went out with her to the garden where they used to play constantly together when they were children.