the arraigned culprit, was restless again, red balls and white chasing one another aimlessly across the green cloth.
"To tell the truth," said Nettie Fry, another of the listening group, propitiatory of the mistress of half a million, "I never admired Mr. Fordham so much as many pretend to do. He was always so cool and lofty—so unapproachable, and, as Miss Sanford says, looked as if he might, when married, grow into a kind of Bluebeard."
"For my part, I thought him grand and good," confessed Selina. "I am dreadfully disappointed. I wonder if Mr. Wyllys knows anything about this shocking business."
"Of course he doesn't! Why should he?" retorted Hester, tartly. "There are not three people beside myself, even in B , who ever heard of it."
"You said 'dozens' just now, Hester!" ventured merciful Fanny, in gentle rebuke.
Selina averted the burst of anger portended by the darkening visage of the moneyed belle.
"I thought Mr. Wyllys would be more likely to hear Mr. Fordham's side of the story than anybody else," she said, timidly. "You know they are own cousins."
"You don't say so!" ejaculated Hester, horrified; and by a simultaneous conviction of their indiscretion, the entire party were moved to glance at Jessie.
She appreciated the extreme awkwardness of the pause; felt that their eyes were directed like so many burning-glasses to a focus that was herself, and mechanically went on playing with her cue and balls. Only Fanny Provost was in a position from which she could see that while her features were steady and her eyes seemed to follow the red and white spheroids in their windings and doublings, one swollen vein in her throat was beating like a clock, and the nails were bloodless where they pressed upon the cue.
"Come! we must finish our game," said the young hostess, going back to the table. "Jessie has been perfecting her skill by a bit of private practice while we were making havoc of our neighbors' characters."
At heart, she was exceedingly displeased with the tale-bearer, but the courtesy of hospitality forbade her more emphatic expression of disapproval.
Jessie threw down the slender rod and tried, very unsuccessfully, to laugh.
"I have done nothing except spoil your game for you. I thought you had found an occupation so far preferable that you would not care to go on with this. I give up my cue and my place. You must choose other partners and commence anew. I have forgotten how the balls were set up when we stopped. I must go home, Fanny! My time is up!"
Bowing a general "good afternoon," she made her way to the library where she had left her bonnet and shawl. Fanny accompanied her.
"You will join us again this evening, I hope," she said, kindly. "Mr. Wyllys is to give us some music. Hester has never heard him sing, and she cannot endure contradiction; so when she insisted I should ask him for to-night, I complied. I am often thankful, Jessie, that I am not an only child, when I see how restless and irritable so much notice and petting has made her. She is more to be pitied than blamed—poor girl!"
Jessie said nothing in rejoinder to this ingenious apology for her guest's ill-natured tattling, and Fanny was compelled to proceed directly to the point.
"I am sorry if you are leaving thus early on account of anything she has
