Matty.
Well, then, as you are so pressing, just a tiny drop. You can put it on
what's in my cup, if you like. Oh, yes, certainly more cream. I'm
partial to cream, if it's good. It agrees with me. It doesn't agree with
Maria, so I never give it her. Well, as I was saying, I'm glad you are
in good health, Matty, for a girl who has a real fine constitution can
stand up against shocks."

"Shocks?" said Mrs. Bell. "I don't think we need talk of shocks at this
time of day, unless indeed, they are joyful ones. Matty, my love," here
Mrs. Bell raised her voice to a high and penetrating key, "I wonder when
our dear friends the Bertrams will be here."

Matty blushed and giggled as only Matty could blush and giggle. Poor
Miss Peters felt herself turning crimson. She ogled her eyes round at
her sister, who rose solemnly and put down her cup and saucer.

The whole company had been impressed by Mrs. Bell's words. They ceased
to talk, they seemed to know something was impending, and Mrs. Butler
felt that her hour had come. She cleared her throat and looked around at
her audience.

"H--m! ladies, I have called here with a little piece of news. I daresay
you have not heard it yet, for it's fresh. It was told to me in
confidence, but my source is a most reliable one. What's the matter,
Maria? Oh, good gracious, I see you are taking cream. You know how ill
cream always makes you. Will no one be kind enough to give Maria another
cup of tea? Well, ladies, I've come with news. We're to have a wedding
soon!"

Here Mrs. Bell, who had felt, as she afterwards expressed it, cold
shivers going down her back, while Mrs. Butler was firing off her
preamble, now bridled and even blushed. It was a little premature,
certainly, but reports always did a trifle exceed the truth, and, as
Matty was so certain to be engaged immediately she could scarcely blame
Mrs. Butler for alluding to it prematurely.

She bent forward therefore and touched her friend on the arm.

"Spare the poor child's blushes," she whispered. "She's such a sensitive
little thing."

"Spare whose blushes, my good friend? The girl isn't in the room. Do you
think I'd be so indelicate as to mention the sacred subject of the
wedding before the bride-elect? No, no, Beatrice isn't by, unless she is
hiding behind one of the window curtains."

At the word Beatrice Mrs. Bell felt her spirit sink down to zero. She
had an insane desire to take Mrs. Butler by main force, and drag her out
o