e out of the room at the first
convenient opportunity. On the stairs I met Mrs. Bickford, the
housekeeper.

"'Is any one in the library with Miss Purcill?' asked she.

"'Yes,--a Mr. Lee.'

"'Mr. Lee?' exclaimed she, in surprise. 'I did not know as he was
expected home now.'

"'Who is Mr. Lee?'

"'He is the gentleman whom Miss Purcill is to marry; but I thought he
was not coming till autumn. I wonder if she knew it.'

"What Eleanor knows she always keeps to herself; none of her household
are any the wiser for it. I was more surprised than Mrs. Bickford.
Eleanor affianced! I never thought or dreamed of such a thing. Eleanor
in love must be a curious spectacle. I did not feel sleepy any longer.
What could a woman, so independent, so self-relying, so sufficient for
herself, want of a lover? She always seemed to be a whole, and did not
need another half to complete herself. I speculated much on the
subject, and, when the bell rang for tea, went down-stairs with
something of the same feeling of eager curiosity with which I open the
pages of a good novel. There is nothing so interesting to idle,
observant people as a pair of lovers, provided they are not silly, in
which stage they are perfectly unbearable, and never should suffer
themselves to be seen even by their intimate friends. Was it my fancy,
or not? I thought Eleanor had grown young since I left the library. A
soft light beamed in her eyes, and a clear crimson--the first trace of
color I had ever seen in her face--burned on her cheek. It was a very
different countenance from that at which I had been casting sidelong
glances half the day, and yet it seemed to me that she was ashamed of
these signs of joy, and thought it but a weakness to feel so glad. I
sat silent nearly all the evening;--words always come more readily to
my pen than to my lips, and, were it not so, there would have been no
occasion for any speech of mine. Their conversation flowed on
uninterruptedly, like a full, free river, whose current is strong and
deep. How much richer both their lives seemed than mine! He had
travelled, thought, seen, and felt so much, and had brought such wealth
home with him, fitly coined into aptly chosen words; and she had
gathered treasures as priceless from the literature of her own and
foreign lands. I had nothing to offer either of them but my ears, and
for those I doubt whether they felt grateful,--and when that doubt
became a certainty, I crept into the great wi