While they were occupied at the tea-table, Georgiana Halstead came up the garden-walk, treading lightly as an antelope, and smiling to herself only as the happy can smile. She snatched at some of the flowers as she passed, and came up to the window forming them into a bouquet, with which she knocked lightly on the glass. Anna arose from the table, and went out to meet her friend with a wan smile on her lips, which seemed but the shadow of that which beamed over Georgie’s whole face. “Come this way, Anna, I have something to tell you. Out here, where this pyramid of white roses can hide us from the window. I would not have them think there was any thing particular for the world.” The two girls went down the walk, and sheltered themselves behind the rose-bushes as they talked together. “Anna, I have something to tell you. Don’t look frightened; it’s nothing bad—at least I don’t think it is; but—but things will turn out so. You know about young Mr. Gould, don’t you?” “Oh, yes! He has been so good to our Robert. I have seen him, too.” “Don’t you think him very—that is, rather handsome?” “Indeed, I do—very handsome.” “I am glad; that is, I thought you would think so.” Here Georgie began to blush, and pluck at a branch of the rose-bush with great energy. Anna saw that the secret, whatever it was, struggled in her throat; and, with that gentle tact which is the very essence of refinement, went on with the conversation. “Mr. Gould has been so very considerate about our Robert. It was only yesterday he doubled his weekly pay,” she said. “Oh! he’s generous as a prince! Look here, Anna.” Georgie took off her glove, and extended a little hand which blushed to the finger-tips as it exhibited a ring, in which was a single diamond limpid as water, and large as a hazel-nut. “Why, that is the engagement-finger!” exclaimed Anna, surprised. “Yes, it is the engagement-finger. He put it on!” Anna turned white as snow. “He! Who?—Mr. Savage?” She spoke with sharp agony, forgetting even that young Gould had been mentioned. “Mr. Savage? No, indeed! He never cared a fig for me. This ring—a beauty, isn’t it?—was put on my finger last night by Mr. Gould.” “And are you really engaged?” “That is exactly what I came to tell you. No one else has been told as yet; but I could not exist without having some one wish me joy—so I came to you. Papa and dear old grandma will give consent this morning.” “Are you certain of that?” asked Anna, with a sigh. “Oh, yes; every thing is right there. Asking is only a form.” “I—I am glad, very glad,” said Anna; but her voice trembled, and she felt ready to burst into tears. Georgiana looked at her earnestly. She had a vague idea that something had gone wrong between her and Savage, but was all in the dark regarding the particulars. “But you look so sorrowful, Anna. I thought to give you pleasure.”