ngered by this. She was very
uneasy. She struggled between the remaining sense of pride, which
sometimes arose to life, and this thought of something better; at other
times she felt as if her marriage with Mr. Carlisle would doom her
forever to go without any treasure but what an earthly coronet well
lined with ermine might symbolize and ensure. Meanwhile weeks flew by;
while Eleanor studied the Bible and sought for light in her solitary
hours at night, and joined in all Mr. Carlisle's plans of gayety by
day. September and October were both gone. November's short days begun.
And when the days should be at the shortest--"Then," thought Eleanor,
"my fate will be settled. Mr. Carlisle will have me; and I can never
disobey him. I cannot now."

November reached the middle, and there wanted but little more than a
month to the wedding-day. Eleanor sat one morning in her garden
parlour, which a mild day made pleasant; working by the glass door. The
old thought, "What will become of me!" was in her heart. A shadow
darkened the door. Eleanor looked up, fearing to see Mr. Carlisle; it
was her little sister Julia.

Julia opened the door and came in. "It is nice in the garden, Eleanor,"
she said. "The chrysanthemums are so beautiful as I never saw
them--white and yellow and orange and rose-colour, and a hundred
colours. They are beautiful, Eleanor."

"Yes."

"May I have a great bunch of them to take to Mr. Rhys?"

"Have what you like. I thought you used to take them without asking."

Julia looked serious.

"I wish I could go down to the village to-night, I know"--she said.

"_To-night!_ What do you wish that for?"

"Because, Mr. Rhys is going to preach; and I do want to go so much; but
I can't."

"Going to preach!--why is he so well as that?"

"He isn't well at all," said Julia,--"not what you would call well. But
he says he is well. He is white and weak enough yet; and I don't think
that is being well. He can't go to Lily Dale nor to Rythdale; so some
of the people are coming to Wiglands."

"Where is he going to preach?"

"Where do you think? In Mr. Brooks's barn. They won't let him preach at
the inn, and he can't have the church; and I _do_ want to see how he
can preach in the barn!"

Mr. Brooks was a well-to-do farmer, a tenant of the Rythdale estate,
living near the road to the old priory and half a mile from the village
of Wiglands. A consuming desire seized Eleanor to do as her little
sister had said--hear M