More and more company came flocking in. Bright eyes sparkled upon Marion; smiling lips gave her joy of his return; sage mothers fanned themselves, and hoped she mightn’t be too youthful and inconstant for the quiet round of home; impetuous fathers fell into disgrace for too much exaltation of her beauty; daughters envied her; sons envied him; innumerable pairs of lovers profited by the occasion; all were interested, animated, and expectant. Mr. and Mrs. Craggs came arm in arm, but Mrs. Snitchey came alone. ‘Why, what’s become of _him_?’ inquired the Doctor. The feather of a Bird of Paradise in Mrs. Snitchey’s turban, trembled as if the Bird of Paradise were alive again, when she said that doubtless Mr. Craggs knew. _She_ was never told. ‘That nasty office,’ said Mrs. Craggs. ‘I wish it was burnt down,’ said Mrs. Snitchey. ‘He’s—he’s—there’s a little matter of business that keeps my partner rather late,’ said Mr. Craggs, looking uneasily about him. ‘Oh-h! Business. Don’t tell me!’ said Mrs. Snitchey. ‘_We_ know what business means,’ said Mrs. Craggs. But their not knowing what it meant, was perhaps the reason why Mrs. Snitchey’s Bird of Paradise feather quivered so portentously, and why all the pendant bits on Mrs. Craggs’s ear-rings shook like little bells. ‘I wonder _you_ could come away, Mr. Craggs,’ said his wife. ‘Mr. Craggs is fortunate, I’m sure!’ said Mrs. Snitchey. ‘That office so engrosses ’em,’ said Mrs. Craggs. ‘A person with an office has no business to be married at all,’ said Mrs. Snitchey. Then, Mrs. Snitchey said, within herself, that that look of hers had pierced to Craggs’s soul, and he knew it; and Mrs. Craggs observed to Craggs, that ‘his Snitcheys’ were deceiving him behind his back, and he would find it out when it was too late. Still, Mr. Craggs, without much heeding these remarks, looked uneasily about until his eye rested on Grace, to whom he immediately presented himself. ‘Good evening, ma’am,’ said Craggs. ‘You look charmingly. Your—Miss—your sister, Miss Marion, is she—’ ‘Oh, she’s quite well, Mr. Craggs.’ ‘Yes—I—is she here?’ asked Craggs. ‘Here! Don’t you see her yonder? Going to dance?’ said Grace. Mr. Craggs put on his spectacles to see the better; looked at her through them, for some time; coughed; and put them, with an air of satisfaction, in their sheath again, and in his pocket.