Aunt Caroline sighed happily.

"I am so glad," she said. "That means it isn't true, because you would know. It always seemed to me it was such a strange and cruel thing to say. Of course, I understand, that there are certain family traits on the Rokeby-Jones side. But it doesn't follow, even then. Just how did the story ever come to get about, my dear?"

"I—really, I—— Would you mind if I didn't discuss it, Miss Marshall?"

Aunt Caroline hastily put away the reference and passed to the next.

"You are perfectly right, my dear," she said. "I ought not to have asked you. I think you show a very fine sense of honor in not wanting to talk about it. I'm quite ashamed of myself. Still, I'm very glad to know it isn't true."

She examined the remaining references, obtaining fresh satisfaction from the discovery that the famous Mrs. Hamilton was fully as ardent in her encomiums as Mrs. Rokeby-Jones.

"I must say that your references please me extremely," said Aunt Caroline, as she finished reading the last one. "Your trip abroad with Mrs. Hamilton must have been a charming experience. I shall ask you[Pg 33] to tell me about it some time. When will you be able to come?"

[Pg 33]

And thus Mary knew that she was engaged.

"I can start any time," she said.

"To-morrow?"

"Yes, Miss Marshall.

"That will do excellently. You will send your trunk here, of course. I should prefer to have you live with us."

This was something Mary had given no thought, but it sounded wonderful. No more boarding-house. And it would save money, too; there was no telling how much would be needed for the sick girl on the East Side.

Aunt Caroline rang a bell and asked the maid to serve tea.

"We'll have a little chat about terms and other things," she said comfortably.

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