stant when, on the door being opened, he saw
Ellinor standing holding by the table, looking
for his appearance with almost panting anxiety.
He thought of nothing then but her evident
weakness, her changed looks, for which no
account of her illness had prepared him. For she
was deadly white, lips and all; and her dark eyes
seemed unnaturally enlarged, while the caves in
which they were set were strangely deep and
hollow. Her hair, too, had been cut off pretty
closely; she did not usually wear a cap, but with
some faint idea of making herself look better in
his eye, she had put one on this day, and the
effect was that she seemed to be forty years of
age; but one instant after he had come in her pale
face was flooded with crimson, and her eyes were
full of tears. She had hard work to keep herself
from going into hysterics, but she instinctively
knew how much he would hate a scene, and she
checked herself in time.

"Oh," she murmured, "I am so glad to see
you; it is such a comfort, such an infinite
pleasure." And so she went on, cooing out words
over him, and stroking his hair with her thin
fingers. While he rather tried to avert his eyes,
he was so much afraid of betraying how much
he thought her altered.

But when she came down, dressed for dinner,
this sense of her change was diminished to him.
Her short brown hair had already a little wave,
and was ornamented by some black lace; she
wore a large black lace shawl — it had been her
mother's of old — over some delicate-coloured
muslin dress; her face was slightly flushed, and
had the tints of a wild rose; her lips kept pale
and trembling with involuntary motion it is true;
and as the lovers stood together, hand in hand,
by the window, he was aware of a little convulsive
twitching at every noise, even while she
seemed gazing in tranquil pleasure on the long
smooth slope of the newly-mown lawn, stretching
down to the little brook that prattled merrily
over the stones on its merry course to Hamley
town.

He felt a stronger twitch than ever before;
even while his ear, less delicate than hers, could
distinguish no peculiar sound. About two
minutes after Mr. Wilkins entered the room.
He came up to Mr. Corbet with warm welcome;
some of it real, some of it assumed. He talked
volubly to him, taking little or no notice of
Ellinor, who dropped into the background, and
sat down on the sofa by Miss Monro; for on
this day they were all to dine together. Ralph
Corbet thought that Mr. Wilkins was aged; but
no wonder, after all his anxiety of various
kinds: Mr. Dunster's flight and reported
defalcations, Ellinor's illness, of the seriousness of
which her lover was now convinced by her
appearance.

He would fain have spoken more to her during
the dinner that ensued, but Mr. Wilkins absorbed
all his attention, talking and questioning on
subjects that left the ladies out of the conversation
almost perpetually. Mr. Corbet recognised his
host's fine tact, even while his persistence in
talking annoyed him. He was quite sure that
Mr. Wilkins was anxious to spare his daughter
any exertion beyond that — to which, indeed, she
seemed scarcely equal — of sitting at the head of
the table. And the more her father talked — so
fine an observer was Mr. Corbet — the more silent
and depressed Ellinor seemed. But by-and-by he
accounted for this inverse ratio of gaiety, as he
perceived how quickly Mr. Wilkins had his glass
replenished. And here, again, Mr. Corbet drew
his conclusions, from the silent way in which,
without a word or a sign from Mr. Wilkins,
Fletcher gave his master more wine continually —
wine that was drained off at once.

"Six glasses of sherry before dessert," thought
Mr. Corbet to himself. " Bad habit — no wonder
Ellinor looks grave." And when the gentlemen
were left alone, Mr. Wilkins helped himself even
yet more freely; yet without the slightest effect
on the clearness and brilliancy of his conversation.
He had always talked well and racily, that
Ralph knew, and in this power he now recognised
a temptation to which he feared that his future
father-in-law had succumbed. And yet, while he
perceived that this gift led into temptation,
he coveted it for himself; for he was perfectly
aware that this fluency, this happy choice of
epithets, was the one thing he should fail in
when be began to enter into the more active
career of his profession. But after some time
spent in listening, and admiring, with this little
feeling of envy lurking in the background, Mr.
Corbet became aware of Mr. Wilkins's increasing
confusion of ideas, and rather unnatural merriment;
and, with a sudden revulsion from admiration
to disgust, he rose up to go into the library,
where Ellinor and Miss Monro were sitting. Mr.
Wilkins accompanied him, laughing and talking
somewhat loudly. Was Ellinor aware of her
father's state? Of that Mr. Corbet could
not be sure. She looked up with grave sad
eyes as they came into the room, but with no
apparent sensation of surprise, annoyance, or shame.
When her glance met her father's, Mr. Corbet
noticed that it seemed to sober the latter
immediately. He sat down near the open window,
and did not speak, but sighed heavily from time
to time. Miss Monro took up a book, in order to
leave the young people to themselves; and after
a little low murmured conversation, Ellinor went
up-stairs to put on her things for a stroll through
the meadows, by the river-side.

They were sometimes sauntering along in the
lovely summer twilight, now resting on some
grassy hedge-row bank, or standing still, looking
at the great barges, with their crimson sails,
lazily floating down the river, making ripples on
the glassy opal surface of the water. They did
not talk very much; Ellinor seemed disinclined
for the exertion: and her lover was thinking
over Mr. Wilkins's behaviour, with some surprise
and distaste of the habit so evidently growing
upon him.

They came home looking serious and tired ;