in the minds of
both--with a difference, for Elinor's imagination was most employed upon
the brilliant canvas where she herself held necessarily the first place,
with a sketch of her mother's lonely life, giving her heart a pang, in
the distance; while Mrs. Dennistoun could not help but see the lonely
figure in her own foreground, against the brightness of all the
entertainments in which Elinor should appear as a queen. They were
sitting thus, the mother employed at some fine needlework for the
daughter, the daughter doing little, as is usual nowadays. They had been
talking over Lady Mariamne and her requirements again, and had come to
an end of that subject. What a pity that it was so hard to open the door
of their two hearts, which were so close together, so that each might
see all the tenderness and compunction in the other; the shame and
sorrow of the mother to grudge her child's happiness, the remorse
and trouble of the child to be leaving that mother out in all her
calculations for the future! How were they to do it on either side? They
could not talk, these poor loving women, so they were mostly silent,
saying a word or two at intervals about Mrs. Dennistoun's work (which of
course, was for Elinor), or of Elinor's village class for sewing, which
was to be transferred to her mother, skirting the edges of the great
separation which could neither be dismissed nor ignored.

Suddenly Elinor looked up, holding up her finger. "What was that?" she
said. "A step upon the gravel?"

"Nonsense, child. If we were to listen to all these noises of the night
there would always be a step upon---- Oh! I think I did hear something."

"It is someone coming to the door," said Elinor, rising up with that
sudden prevision of trouble which is so seldom deceived.

"Don't go, Elinor; don't go. It might be a tramp; wait at least till
they knock at the door."

"I don't think it can be a tramp, mamma. It may be a telegram. It is
coming straight up to the door."

"It will be the parcel porter from the station. He is always coming and
going, though I never knew him so late. Pearson is in the house, you
know. There is not any cause to be alarmed."

"Alarmed!" said Elinor, with a laugh of excitement; "but I put more
confidence in myself than in Pearson, whoever it may be."

She stood listening with a face full of expectation, and Mrs. Dennistoun
put down her work and listened too. The step advanced lightly, scattering
the gravel, and th