this occasion, as each of its predecessors had done, with a last, with indeed a fresh, solicitude. "What has become of my delightful 'party'?"
"They've been dismissed, through the grounds, by the other door. But they mentioned," the girl pursued, "the probable arrival of a fresh lot."
Mrs. Gracedew showed on this such a revival of interest as fairly amounted to yearning. "Why, what times you have! You," she nevertheless promptly decreed, "must take the fresh lot—since the house is now practically yours!"
Poor Cora looked blank. "Mine?"
Her companion matched her stare. "Why, if you're going to marry Captain Yule."
Cora coloured, in a flash, to the eyes. "I'm not going to marry Captain Yule!"
Her friend as quickly paled again. "Why on earth then did you tell me only ten minutes ago that you were?"
Cora could only look bewildered at the charge. "I told you nothing of the sort. I only told you"—she was almost indignantly positive—"that he had been ordered me!"
It sent Mrs. Gracedew off; she moved away to indulge an emotion that presently put on the form of extravagant mirth. "Like a dose of medicine or a course of baths?"
