Nina and Miggie

It would be impossible to describe Edith's feelings as she rode
toward home. She knew Arthur had not told her the whole, and that
the part omitted was the most important of all. What could it be?
She thought of a thousand different things, but dismissed them one
after another from her mind as too preposterous to be cherished
for a moment.

The terrible reality never once occurred to her,
else her heart had not beaten as lightly as it did, in spite of
the strange story she had heard. She was glad that she had met
with Nina--glad that every obstacle to their future intercourse
was removed--and while she censured Arthur much she pitied him the
more and scolded herself heartily for feeling so comfortable and
satisfied because he had ceased to love the unfortunate Nina.

"I can't blame him for not wishing to be talked about," she said.
"Shannondale IS a horribly gossipping place, and people would have
surmised everything; but the sooner they know it now the sooner it
will die away. Let me think. Who will be likely to spread the news
most industriously?"

Suddenly remembering Mrs. Eliakim Rogers, the busiest gossip in
town, she turned Bedouin in the direction of the low brown house,
standing at a little distance from the road, and was soon seated
in Mrs. Eliakim's kitchen, her ostensible errand being to inquire
about some plain sewing the good lady was doing for her, while her
real object was to communicate as much of Arthur's story as she
thought proper.