_A human heart should beat for two, Whate'er may say your single scorners; And all the hearths I ever knew Had got a pair of chimney-corners._ F. LOCKER: London Lyrics. The next day, at about six o'clock, just as they had gone upstairs from the studio, Constance Devonshire was announced, and came sailing in, in her smartest attire, and with her most gracious smile on her face. "I have come to offer my congratulations," she cried, going up to Lucy; "you know, I have always thought little Mr. Jermyn a nice person." Lucy laughed quietly. "I am glad you have brought your congratulations in person, Conny. I rather expected you would tell your coachman to leave cards at the door." Conny turned away her face abruptly. "What is the good of coming to see such busy people as you have been lately?... And with so much love-making going on at the same time! What does Mrs. Maryon think of it all?" "Oh, she finds it very tame and hackneyed, I am afraid." "You see," added Phyllis, who lounged idly in an arm-chair by the window, pale but sprightly, "the course of true love runs so monotonously smooth in this household. And Mrs. Maryon has a taste for the dramatic." Conny laughed; and at this point the door was thrown open to admit Aunt Caroline, whose fixed and rigid smile was intended to show that she was in a gracious mood, and was accepted by the girls as a signal of truce. "What is this a little bird tells me, Lucy?" she cried archly, for Mrs. Pratt shared the liking of her sex for matters matrimonial. Fanny, who was, in fact, none other than the little bird who had broken the news, put her head on one side in unconsciously avine fashion, and smiled benevolently at her sister. "I am engaged to Mr. Jermyn," said Lucy, her clear voice lingering proudly over the words. Conny winced suddenly; then turned to gaze through the window at the blank casements above the auctioneer's shop. "Then you have found out who Mr. Jermyn _is_?" went on Aunt Caroline, still in her most conciliatory tones. "We never wanted to know," said Lucy, unexpectedly showing fight. Aunt Caroline flushed, but she had come resolved against hostile encounter, in which, hitherto, she had found herself overpowered by force of numbers; so she contented herself with saying-- "And have you any prospect of getting married?" "Frank has gone to Africa for the present," said Lucy. Aunt Caroline looked significant. "I only hope," she said afterwards to Fanny, who let her out at the street-door, "that your sister has not fallen into the hands of an unscrupulous adventurer. It will be time when the young man comes home, if he ever does, for Mr. Pratt to make the proper inquiries." Fanny had risen into favour since her engagement; Mr. Marsh, also, had won golden opinions at Lancaster Gate. "I believe," Fanny replied, speaking for once to the point, "that Frank Jermyn is going to write, himself, to Mr. Pratt, at the first opportunity."