And she hastily escorted her to the hall door, and saw her down the avenue, accompanied by the three delighted dogs (Mossoo preferred the fire, and the other dogs preferred his room to his company). As Betty walked along, smiling and nodding to many acquaintances--for it had been market day--she was by no means a bad imitation of the Spartan boy and fox. She was suffering her first keen agonising grief, and wore a white but cheerful countenance. Oh! what would she not give to be able to run away and hide herself in the woods, and there alone have it out with this stabbing pain that seemed to be tearing at her very heart-strings. She wended her way to the post office, and wrote out Belle’s message on a telegram form. Strange fate! that hers should be the hand to extinguish her own best hopes! Miss Bolland, the post-mistress and Ballingoole daily news, of which Maria Finny was the supplement, observed more than most people, and noticed how pale Betty was, and how her hand shook as she guided the pen, and remarked upon it, with her usual uncompromising frankness. “It’s the change in the weather,” replied the girl mendaciously. “This close weather is trying, and I am sure there is thunder in the air.” “Dear me, do you say so! I’m that nervous in a thunderstorm, on account of the telegraph wires. Well, miss, you do look poorly, I must say.” “A telegram to _India_,” as Betty handed it to her; “we never sent one there before. “‘George Holroyd, Mangobad, India, Yes, coming.’” Now reading it aloud with inexpressible unction. “From _you_, Miss Betty?” with a quick glance. “Oh no, but it is of no consequence whom it is from. It need not be wired. _He_ knows.” “Yes--but I must know, too,” returned Jane Bolland rather sharply, “otherwise I can’t send it.” “Miss Redmond sends it,” said Betty quietly. “Oh, indeed. So I was thinking; yes, coming to Mr. Holroyd. Oh, of course. It will be one pound seven shillings. Thank you, miss, it shall be despatched at once. I quite understand its importance. _Good_ evening.” In less than five minutes, Jane had darted out with a shawl over her head, to impart the great news to Mrs. Maccabe--who lived next door but one--and before the shops were closed, all Ballingoole was in possession of the intelligence, that Miss Redmond was going to India to be married to Mr. Holroyd--and no one was the least surprised, except Miss Dopping and Betty. CHAPTER IX. “FOXY JOE TELLS MORE TALES, AND ONE FALSEHOOD.” “These two hated with a hate Found only on the Stage.” --BYRON. “There goes old Sally, hot foot out to Noone to hear the news and to set them all by the ears!”