instructions to wait.
Philip's reply reached me without delay. It pledged him to justify
himself as I had desired, and to keep the appointment. My own belief is
that the event of to-day will decide his future and mine.
CHAPTER XXVII. EUNICE'S DIARY.
Indeed, I am a most unfortunate creature; everything turns out badly
with me. My good, true friend, my dear Selina, has become the object of
a hateful doubt in my secret mind. I am afraid she is keeping something
from me.
Talking with her about my troubles, I heard for the first time that she
had written again to Mrs. Tenbruggen. The object of her letter was to
tell her friend of my engagement to young Mr. Dunboyne. I asked her why
she had done this. The answer informed me that there was no knowing, in
the present state of my affairs, how soon I might not want the help of a
clever woman. I ought, I suppose, to have been satisfied with this. But
there seemed to be something not fully explained yet.
Then again, after telling Selina what I heard in the study, and how
roughly Philip had spoken to me afterward, I asked her what she thought
of it. She made an incomprehensible reply: "My sweet child, I mustn't
think of it--I am too fond of you."
It was impossible to make her explain what this meant. She began to talk
of Philip; assuring me (which was quite needless) that she had done
her best to fortify and encourage him, before he called on papa. When
I asked her to help me in another way--that is to say, when I wanted to
find out where Philip was at that moment--she had no advice to give me.
I told her that I should not enjoy a moment's ease of mind until I and
my dear one were reconciled. She only shook her head and declared that
she was sorry for me. When I hit on the idea of ringing for Maria, this
little woman, so bright, and quick and eager to help me at other times,
said "I leave it to you, dear," and turned to the piano (close to which
I was sitting), and played softly and badly stupid little tunes.
"Maria, did you open the door for Mr. Dunboyne when he went away just
now?"
"No, miss."
Nothing but ill-luck for me! If I had been left to my own devices, I
should now have let the housemaid go. But Selina contrived to give me
a hint, on a strange plan of her own. Still at the piano, she began
to confuse talking to herself with playing to herself. The notes went
_tinkle, tinkle_--and the tongue mixed up words with the notes in this
way: "Perhaps they ha
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