lingering so long at the gate, leaned
toward the open fire, shading her face with her hand. She was silent
for some time, thinking of several things.

"At least tell me that in this case, also, there is little to see, or I
shall begin to fear that your father may be right when he says there may
be danger of trouble arising out of this matter to us all."

"No. There need be no trouble, if people would only not talk," said
Elizabeth, raising her head and turning so as to look at the minister.
"I will tell you what I was thinking about before I went out; I was
sorry that my father had spoken to you about Mr Fleming's affairs, or
that he should have suggested the idea of your speaking to the old man
about them; I wanted you not to promise to speak--I mean I do not think
it would do any good were you to do so."

"Well, I did not promise."

"No; and I think my father may forget that he has spoken to you about
it; he forgets many things now. And if you would forget all about it
too, it would be all the better."

"I will be silent, and that will answer every purpose of forgetfulness,
or ignorance, will it not?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not quite; and since I have said so much, I
ought to say a little more. I can see all sides of this matter with
sufficient clearness to be aware that trouble to a good many people, or
at least discomfort and annoyance, might easily spring out of it. As to
the church, I am not sure. But if everybody would keep silence, there
need be no trouble. And to tell the truth, Mr Maxwell, I was not
thinking of Mr Fleming or of Jacob, or of what my father was telling
yon, except in its relation to you. It is a pity that you should have
been told any of those old grievances."

Elizabeth rose and took the brush from its hook, and swept up the ashes
and embers that had fallen upon the hearth. Then she seated herself in
her own low chair by the window, and took up her work, but laid it down
again, and folded her hands on her lap.

Mr Maxwell smiled. "I see I am not expected to stay much longer. But
really, Miss Holt, I don't quite see `the pity' of it. Why am I not to
know all that is going on as well as the rest? Besides, if your father
had not told me, some one else would have done so."

"True."

"And I might in such a case have committed myself to the doing or saying
of something foolish at a first hearing, as I should have done to-day
but that your face made me pause."

"Did i