All through that dreary day this letter lay in Sappha’s work-basket. It seemed almost to have life, and to talk to her; and when her mother came to drink a cup of tea, she was glad to give her back the intimate, insinuating bit of script. Mrs. Bloommaert held it a moment, and then locked it in the judge’s desk. “I don’t want to see it again,” she said, “but if I burn it, your father will be sure to consider it important enough to keep. Can you imagine what news your grandmother has to tell you?” “No. There was considerable jesting about a secret yesterday, but it did not strike me as important. It most likely relates in some way to Annette’s marriage.” “That is hardly possible; Annette did not say a word of her engagement to you yesterday?” “Oh, but grandmother would not permit her to speak until she herself had announced it. Grandmother is particular about such things. Still, I do not think they were engaged when I left there last night. Achille did not look, or act, like an engaged man; and Annette would have told the secret in twenty ways without uttering a word. I should certainly have seen it. No, the offer was made after I left. Achille was in a very sensitive mood. However, Annette will tell me everything to-morrow.” In the morning she obeyed her grandmother’s request, and went to Nassau Street very early. She told herself as she walked rapidly through the frosty air that there would likely be some little change in Annette. “There always is,” she mused; “as soon as a girl is engaged something takes place--I wonder what it is.” The first symptom of this change met Sappha at once. Annette did not run to meet her as usual, and though quite as demonstrative, there was a little air of superiority, of settlement, of some subtile accession, that was indefinable, and yet both positive and practical. She was dressed with great care, and in high spirits; and madame shared obviously in all her anticipations. Sappha was indeed astonished at her grandmother’s appearance and excited mood. Annette answered Sappha’s congratulations with a kiss and a smile only; but madame expressed her pleasure frankly. She was already planning Annette’s wedding and Annette’s home. Suddenly she recollected herself, and said, “Well, then, have you remembered the secret I promised to tell you this morning, Sappha?” “Is not Annette’s good fortune the secret, grandmother?”