Hester sat perfectly still, to avoid all danger of showing that this was news to her.

"How very strange!" exclaimed the lady. "I often say there is no keeping anything quiet in Deerbrook. Do you know where Dr Levitt got his information?"

"No," said Margaret, smiling. "Dr Levitt generally knows what he is talking about. I dare say he had it from some good authority. The young lady is at Rome, I find."

"Are you acquainted with Miss Bruce?" asked Hester, thinking it time to relieve Margaret of her share of the conversation.

Margaret started a little on finding that her sister had heard the news.

Was it possible that her brother and sister had been afraid to tell her? No: it was a piece of Edward's professional discretion. His wife alone had a right to the news he heard among his patients.

"Oh, yes!" replied Mrs Rowland; "I have long loved Mary as a sister.

Their early attachment made a sister of her to me an age ago."

"It has been a long engagement, then," said Hester, glad to say anything which might occupy Mrs Rowland, as Margaret's lips were now turning very white.

"Not now, my dear," Margaret was heard to say to little Ned, over whom she was bending her head as he stood by her side. "Stand still here,"

she continued, with wonderful cheerfulness of tone; "I want to hear your mamma tell us about Uncle Philip." With the effort her strength rallied, and the paleness was gone before Mrs Rowland had turned round.

"How long the engagement has existed," said the lady, "I cannot venture to say. I speak only of the attachment. Young people understand their own affairs, you know, and have their little mysteries, and laugh behind our backs, I dare say, at our ignorance of what they are about. Philip has been sly enough as to this, I own: but I must say I had my suspicions. I was pretty confident of his being engaged from the day that he told me in the summer, that he fully agreed with me that it was time he was settled."

"How differently some people understood that!" thought Hester and Margaret at the same moment.

"Is Mr Enderby at Rome now?" asked Hester.

"No: he is hard at work, studying law. He is really going to apply to a profession now. Not that it would be necessary, for Mary has a very good fortune. But Mary wishes so much that he should--like a sensible girl as she is."

"It is what I urged when he consulted me," thought Margaret. She had had little idea whose counsel she was following up.

"We shall soon hear of his setting off for the Continent, however, I have no doubt," said the lady.

"To bring home his bride," observed Margaret, calmly.

"Why, I do not know that. The Bruces will be returning early in the spring; and I should like the young people to marry in town, that we may have them here for their wedding trip."

"How you do hug me!" cried the laughing little boy, around whom Margaret's arm was pa.s.sed.

"Have I made you warm at last?" asked Margaret. "If not, you may go and stand by the fire."

"No, indeed; we must be going," said mamma. "As I find this news is abroad, I must call on Mrs Grey. She will take offence at once, if she hears it from anybody but me. So much for people's husbands being partners in business!"

Margaret was now fully qualified to comprehend her sister's irritability. Every trifle annoyed her. The rustle of Mrs Rowland's handsome cloak almost made her sick; and she thought the hall clock would never have done striking twelve. When conscious of this, she put a strong check upon herself.

Hester stood by the mantelpiece, looking into the fire, and taking no notice of their mutual silence upon this piece of news. At last she muttered, in a soliloquising tone--

"Do not know--but I am not sure this news is true, after all."

After a moment's pause, Margaret replied--"I think that is not very reasonable. What must one suppose of everybody else, if it is not true?"

Hester was going to say, "What must we think of him, if it is?" but she checked herself. She should not have said what she had; she felt this, and only replied--

"Just so. Yes; it must be true."

Margaret's heart once more sank within her at this corroboration of her own remark.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE MEADOWS IN WINTER.

Hester was tired of her snow-boots before she saw them. She had spent more trouble on them than they were worth; and it was three weeks yet before they came. It was now past the middle of February--rather late in the season for snow-boots to arrive: but then there was Margaret's consolatory idea, that they would be ready for next year's snow.

"It is not too late yet," said Mr Hope. "There is skating every day in the meadow. It will soon be over; so do not lose your opportunity.

Come! let us go to-day."

"Not unless the sun shines out," said Hester, looking with a shiver up at the windows.

"Yes, to-day," said Edward, "because I have time to-day to go with you.

You have seen me quiz other skaters: you must go and see other skaters quiz me."

"What points of your skating do they get hold of to quiz?" asked Margaret.

"Why, I hardly know. We shall see."

"Is it so very good, then?"

"No. I believe the worst of my skating is, that it is totally devoid of every sort of expression. That is just the true account of it," he continued, as his wife laughed. "I do not square my elbows, nor set my coat flying, nor stoop, nor rear; but neither is there any grace. I just go straight on; and, as far as I know, n.o.body ever bids any other body look at me."

"So you bid your own family come and look at you. But how are your neighbours to quiz you if they do not observe you?"

"Oh, that was only a bit of ant.i.thesis for effect. My last account is the true one, as you will see. I shall come in for you at twelve."

By twelve the sun had shone out, and the ladies, booted, furred, and veiled, were ready to encounter the risks and rigours of the ice and snow. As they opened the hall door they met on the steps a young woman, who was just raising her hand to the knocker. Her errand was soon told.

"Please, ma'am, I heard that you wanted a servant."

"That is true," said Hester. "Where do you come from?--from any place near, so that you can call again?"

"Surely," said Margaret, "it is Mrs Enderby's Susan."

"Yes, miss, I have been living with Mrs Enderby. Mrs Enderby will give me a good character, ma'am."

"Why are you leaving her, Susan?"

"Oh, ma'am, only because she is gone."

"Gone!--where?--what do you mean?"

"Gone to live at Mrs Rowland's, ma'am. You didn't know?--it _was_ very sudden. But she moved yesterday, ma'am, and we were paid off--except Phoebe, who stays to wait upon her. I am left in charge of the house, ma'am: so I can step here again, if you wish it, some time when you are not going out."