lled at it
vigorously--at least, she seemed to be doing so, because the flowers
almost covered her face, but really they made an ambush from which she
spied the enemy, unseen.

The remark she had made had been made a hundred times before to Mrs.
Dinks. In fact, Fanny herself had used it, under various forms, to assure
herself, by the pleased reserve of the reply which Mrs. Dinks always
returned, that the lady had no suspicion that she was mistaken. But this
time Mrs. Dinks, whose equanimity had been entirely disturbed by her
discovery that Hope was not engaged to Alfred, asked formally, and not
without a slight sneer which arose from an impatient suspicion that Fanny
knew more than she chose to disclose--

"And pray, Miss Newt, what do people hear? Really, if other people are as
unfortunate as I am, they hear a great deal of nonsense."

Upon which Mrs. Budlong Dinks sniffed the air like a charger.

"I know it--it is really dreadful," returned Fanny Newt. "People do say
the most annoying and horrid things. But this time, I am sure, there can
be nothing very vexatious." And Miss Newt fanned herself with persistent
complacency, as if she were resolved to prolong the pleasure which Mrs.
Dinks must undoubtedly have in the conversation.

Hitherto it had been the policy of that lady to demur and insinuate,
and declare how strange it was, and how gossipy people were, and finally
to retreat from a direct reply under cover of a pretty shower of ohs!
and ahs! and indeeds! and that policy had been uniformly successful.
Everybody said, "Of course Alfred Dinks and his cousin are engaged, and
Mrs. Dinks likes to have it alluded to--although there are reasons why
it must be not openly acknowledged." So Field-marshal Mrs. Dinks
outgeneraled Everybody. But the gallant young private, Miss Fanny Newt,
was resolved to win her epaulets.

As Mrs. Dinks made no reply, and assumed the appearance of a lady who,
for her own private and inscrutable reasons, had concluded to forego the
prerogative of speech for evermore, while she fanned herself calmly, and
regarded Fanny with a kind of truculent calmness that seemed to say,
"What are you going to do about that last triumphant move of mine?" Fanny
proceeded in a strain of continuous sweetness that fairly rivaled the
smoothness of the neck, and the eyes, and the arms of Mrs. Bleecker Van
Kraut:

"I suppose there can be nothing very disagreeable to Miss Wayne's friends
in knowing that she is