and grander than the majority of country-town
churches. The Ford Bank pew was a square one,
down stairs; the Ford Bank servants sat in a
front pew in the gallery, right before their
master. Ellinor was "hardening her heart" not
to listen, not to hearken to what might disturb
the wound which was just being skinned over,
when she caught Dixon's face up above. He
looked worn, sad, soured, and anxious to a
miserable degree; but he was straining eyes and ears,
heart and soul, to hear the solemn words read
from the pulpit, as if in them alone he could find
help in his strait. Ellinor felt rebuked and
humbled.

She was in a tumultuous state of mind when
they left church; she wished to do her duty, yet
could not ascertain what it was. Who was to
help her with wisdom and advice? Assuredly
he to whom her future life was to be trusted.
But the case must be stated in an impersonal
form. No one, not even her husband, must
ever know anything against her father from her.
Ellinor was so artless herself, that she had little
idea how quickly and easily some people can
penetrate motives, and combine disjointed
sentences. She began to speak to Ralph on their
slow sauntering walk homewards through the
quiet meadows:

'' Suppose, Ralph, that a girl was engaged to
be married— "

"I can very easily suppose that, with you by
me," said he, filling up her pause.

"Oh! but I don't mean myself at all," replied
she, reddening. " I am only thinking of what
might happen; and suppose that this girl knew
of some one belonging to her— we will call it a
brother — who had done something wrong, that
would bring disgrace upon the whole family if it
was known — though, indeed, it might not have
been so very wrong as it seemed, and as it would
look to the world — ought she to break off her
engagement for fear of involving her lover in the
disgrace?"

"Certainly not, without telling him her reason
for doing so."

"Ah! but suppose she could not. She might
not be at liberty to do so."

"I can't answer supposititious cases. I must
have the facts — if facts there are — more plainly
before me before I can give an opinion. Who
are you thinking of, Ellinor?" asked he, rather
abruptly.

"Oh, of no one," she answered, in affright.
" Why should I be thinking of any one? I
often try to plan out what I should do, or
what I ought to do, if such and such a thing
happened, just as you recollect I used to
wonder if I should have presence of mind in case of
fire."

"Then, after all, you yourself are the girl who
is engaged, and who has the imaginary brother
who gets into disgrace?"

"Yes, I suppose so," said she, a little annoyed
at having betrayed any personal interest in the
affair.

He was silent, meditating.

"There is nothing wrong in it," said she,
timidly, "is there?"

"I think you had better tell me fully out what
is in your mind," he replied, kindly. "Something
has happened which has suggested these
questions. Are you putting yourself in the place
of any one about whom you have been hearing
lately? I know you used to do so formerly, when
you were a little girl."

"No; it was a very foolish question of mine,
and I ought not to have said anything about it.
See! here is Mr. Ness overtaking us."

The clergyman joined them on the broad walk
that ran by the river-side, and the talk became
general. It was a relief to Ellinor, who had not
attained her end, but who had gone far towards
betraying something of her own individual interest
in the question she had asked. Ralph had
been more struck even by her manner than her
words. He was sure that something lurked
behind, and had an idea of his own that it was
connected with Dunster's disappearance. But
he was glad that Mr. Ness's joining them gave
him leisure to consider a little. The end of his
reflections was, that the next day, Monday, he
went into the town, and artfully learnt all he
could hear about Mr. Dunster's character and
mode of going on; and with still more skill he
extracted the popular opinion as to the
embarrassed nature of Mr. Wilkins's affairs —
embarrassment which was generally attributed to
Dunster's disappearance with a good large sum
belonging to the firm in his possession. But Mr.
Corbet thought otherwise; he had accustomed
himself to seek out the baser motives for men's
conduct, and to call the result of these
researches wisdom. He imagined that Dunster
had been well paid by Mr. Wilkins for his
disappearance, which was an easy way of
accounting for the derangement of accounts and
loss of money that arose, in fact, from Mr.
Wilkins's extravagance of habits and growing
intemperance.

On the Monday afternoon he said to Ellinor,
"Mr. Ness interrupted us yesterday in a very
interesting conversation. Do you remember,
love?"

Ellinor reddened, and kept her head still more
intently bent over a sketch she was making.

"Yes; I recollect."

"I have been thinking about it. I still think
she ought to tell her lover that such disgrace,
hung over him — I mean, over the family with
whom he was going to connect himself. Of
course, the only effect would be to make him
stand by her still more for her frankness."

"Oh! but, Ralph, it might perhaps be something
she ought not to tell, whatever came of her
silence."

"Of course there might be all sorts of cases.
Unless I knew more I could not pretend to
judge."

This was said rather more coolly. It had the
desired effect. Ellinor laid down her brush, and