Abel rattled on, he did not know why; but he did know that his Uncle Lawrence, and Amy Waring, and Mr. Merlin heard every thing he said. Hope looked at him calmly, and listened to the gay cascade of talk.

The music was still playing; Mr. Van Boozenberg spoke to Lawrence Newt; Amy Waring said that she saw her Aunt Bennet. Would Mr. Merlin take her to her aunt?--he should return to his worship in one moment. Mr.

Merlin was very gallant, and replied with spirit that when her worship returned--here he made a low bow--his would. As they moved away Amy Waring laughed at him, and said that men would compliment as long as--as women are lovely, interpolated Mr. Merlin. Arthur also wished to know what speech was good for, if not to say the sweetest things; and so they were lost to view, still gayly chatting with the pleasant freedom of a young man and woman who know that they are not in love with each other, and are perfectly content not to be so, because--whether they know it or not--they are each in love with somebody else.

This movement had taken place as Abel was finishing his scattering volley of talk.

"Yes," said he, as he saw that he was not overheard, and sinking his voice into that tone of tender music which Hope so well remembered--"yes, making every body in the world happy but one person."

His airy persiflage had not pleased Hope Wayne. The sudden modulation into sentiment offended her. Before she replied--indeed she had no intention of replying--the round eyes of Mrs. Van Kraut informed her partner that she was ready for another turn, and forth they whirled upon the floor.

"I jes' sez to Mrs. Dagon, you know, ma'am, sez I, I don't like to see a young man like Mr. Abel Newt, sez I, wasting himself upon married women.

No, sez I, ma'am, when you women have made your market, sez I, you oughter stan' one side and give the t'others a chance, sez I."

Mr. Van Boozenberg addressed this remark to Lawrence Newt. In the eyes of the old gentleman it was another instance of imprudence on Abel's part not to be already engaged to some rich girl.

Lawrence Newt replied by looking round the room as if searching for some one, and then saying:

"I don't see your daughter, Mrs. Witchet, here to-night, Mr. Van Boozenberg."

"No," growled the papa, and moved on to talk with Mrs. Dagon.

"My dear Sir," said the Honorable Budlong Dinks, approaching just as Lawrence Newt finished his remark, and Van Boozenberg, growling, departed:

"That was an unfortunate observation. You are, perhaps, not aware--"

"Oh! thank you, yes, I am fully aware," replied Lawrence Newt. "But one thing I do not know."

The Honorable Budlong Dinks bowed with dignity as if he understood Mr.

Newt to compliment him by insinuating that he was the man who knew all about it, and would immediately enlighten him.

"I do not know why, if a man does a mean and unfeeling, yes, an inhuman act, it is bad manners to speak of it. Old Van Boozenberg ought to be sent to the penitentiary for his treatment of his daughter, and we all know it."

"Yes; but really," replied the Honorable Budlong Dinks, "really--you know--it would be impossible. Mr. Van Boozenberg is a highly respectable man--really--we should lapse into chaos," and the honorable gentleman rubbed his hands with perfect suavity.

"When did we emerge?" asked Lawrence Newt, with such a kindly glimmer in his eyes, that Mr. Dinks said merely, "really," and moved on, remarking to General Arcularius Belch, with a diplomatic shrug, that Lawrence Newt was a very odd man.

"Odd, but not without the coin. He can afford to be odd," replied that gentleman.

While these little things were said and done, Lawrence moved through the crowd and somehow found himself at the side of Amy Waring, who was talking with Fanny Newt.

"You young Napoleon," said Lawrence to his niece as he joined them.

"What do you mean, you droll Uncle Lawrence?" demanded Fanny, her eyes glittering with inquiry.

"Where's Mrs. Wurmser--I mean Mrs. Dinks?" continued Lawrence. "Why, when I saw you talking together a little while ago, I could think of nothing but the young Bonaparte and the old Wurmser."

"You droll Uncle Lawrence, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

It was an astuter young Napoleon than Uncle Lawrence knew. Even then and there, in Mrs. Kingfisher's ball-room, had Fanny Newt resolved how to carry her Mantua by a sudden coup.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

HEAVEN'S LAST BEST GIFT.

"My dear Alfred, I am glad to see you. You may kiss me--carefully, carefully!"

Mr. Alfred Dinks therewith kissed lips upon his return from Boston.

"Sit down, Alfred, my dear, I wish to speak to you," said Fanny Newt, with even more than her usual decision. The eyes were extremely round and black. Alfred seated himself with vague trepidation.

"My dear, we must be married immediately," remarked Fanny, quietly.

The eyes of the lover shone with pleasure.

"Dear Fanny!" said he, "have you told mother?"

"No," answered she, calmly.

"Well, but then you know--" rejoined Alfred. He would have said more, but he was afraid. He wanted to inquire whether Fanny thought that her father would supply the sinews of matrimony. Alfred's theory was that he undoubtedly would. He was sure that a young woman of Fanny's calmness, intrepidity, and profound knowledge of the world would not propose immediate matrimony without seeing how the commissariat was to be supplied. She has all her plans laid, of course, thought he--she is so talented and cool that 'tis all right, I dare say. Of course she knows that I have nothing, and hope for nothing except from old Burt, and he's not sure for me, by any means. But Boniface Newt is rich enough.

And Alfred consoled himself by thinking of the style in which that worthy commission merchant lived, and especially of his son Abel's expense and splendor.

"Alfred, dear--just try not to be trying, you know, but think what you are about. Your mother has found out that something has gone wrong--that you are not engaged to Hope Wayne."

"Yes--yes, I know," burst in Alfred; "she treated me like a porcupine this morning--or ant-eater, which is it, Fanny--the thing with quills, you know?"

Miss Fanny Newt patted the floor with her foot. Alfred continued:

"Yes, and Hope sent down, and she wanted to see me alone some time to-day."

Fanny's foot stopped.

"Alfred, dear," said she, "you are a good fellow, but you are too amiable. You must do just as I want you to, dearest, or something awful will happen."

"Pooh! Fanny; nothing shall happen. I love you like any thing."

Smack! smack!

"Well, then, listen, Alfred! Your mother doesn't like me. She would do any thing to prevent your marrying me. The reasons I will tell you at another time. If you go home and talk with her and Hope Wayne, you can not help betraying that you are engaged to me; and--you know your mother, Alfred--she would openly oppose the marriage, and I don't know what she might not say to my father."

Fanny spoke clearly and rapidly, but calmly. Alfred looked utterly bewildered.

"It's a great pity, isn't it?" said he, feebly. "What do you think we had better do?"