“Is Mr. Everett anything to her!” asked Durward, half hoping that she would not confirm what Carrie had before hinted. “If he isn’t he ought to be,” answered Mrs. Livingstone, with an ominous shake of the head. “Rumor says they are engaged, and though when questioned she denies it, she gives people abundant reason to think so, and yet every chance she gets, she flirts with Captain Atherton, as you see her doing now.” “What can she or any other young girl possibly want of that old man?” asked Durward, laughing at the very idea. “He is _rich_. ’Lena is poor, proud, and ambitious—there lies the secret,” was Mrs. Livingstone’s reply, and thinking she had said enough for the present, she excused herself, while she went to give orders concerning supper. John Jr., and Carrie, too, had disappeared, and thus left to himself, Durward had nothing to do but to watch ’Lena, who, as she saw symptoms of desertion in the anxious glances which the captain cast toward Anna, redoubled her exertions to keep him at her side, thus confirming Durward in the belief that she really was what her aunt and Carrie had represented her to be. “Poor, proud, and ambitious,” rang in his ears, and as he mistook the mischievous look which ’Lena frequently sent toward Anna and Malcolm, for a desire to see how the latter was affected by her conduct, he thought “Fickle as fair,” at the same time congratulating himself that he had obtained an insight into her real character, ere her exceeding beauty and agreeable manners had made any particular impression upon him. Knowing she had done nothing to offend him, and feeling piqued at his indifference, ’Lena in turn treated him so coldly, that even Carrie was satisfied with the phase which affairs had assumed, and that night, in the privacy of her mother’s dressing-room, expressed her pleasure that matters were progressing so finely. “You’ve no idea, mother,” said she, “how much he detests anything like coquetry. Nellie Douglass thinks it’s a kind of monomania with him, and I am inclined to believe it is so.” “In that case,” answered Mrs. Livingstone, “it behooves you, in his presence, to be very careful how you demean yourself toward other gentlemen.” “I haven’t lived nineteen years for nothing,” said Carrie, folding her soft white hands complacently one over the other. “Speaking of Nellie Douglass,” continued Mrs. Livingstone, who had long desired this interview with her daughter, “speaking of Nellie, reminds me of your brother, who seems perfectly crazy about her.” “And what if he does ?” asked Carrie, her thoughts far more intent upon Durward Bellmont than her brother. “Isn’t Nellie good enough for him?” “Yes, good enough, I admit,” returned her mother, “but I think I can find a far more suitable match—Mabel Ross, for instance. Her fortune is said to be immense, while Mr. Douglass is worth little or nothing.”