ey had all read it, and nobody had said it
was wrong. No one was very careful about the date in the cottage. If it
was right, if it was wrong, Elinor could not tell. But yet somehow she
was conscious that the man to whom she had spoken had been deceived.
And Phil! and Phil! what had he meant, adjuring her to stick to him, to
stand by him, not to contradict him? Elinor's mind was in such a wild
commotion that she could not answer these inquiries. She could not feel
that she had one solid step of ground to place herself upon in the
whirlwind which swept her about and about. Had she--lied? And why had he
asked her to lie? And what, oh, what did it all mean?

One thing that at last appeared to her in the chaos which seemed like
something solid that she could grasp at was that Phil had never changed
in his aspect. The other man had been very serious, staring at her as if
to intimidate her, like a man who had something to find out; but Phil
had been as careless, as indifferent, as he appeared always to be. He
had not changed his expression. It is true there was that look in which
there was at once an entreaty and a command--but only she had seen
that, and perhaps it was merely the emotion, the excitement, the strange
feeling of having to face the world for him, and say----what, what?
Was it simply, the truth, nothing but the truth, or was it---- Again
Elinor's mind began to whirl. It was the truth: she could see now that
big 6 on the calendar distinct as the sunshine. And yet it was only
yesterday--and there was 8 this morning. Had she gone through an
intervening dream for a whole day without knowing it; or had she,
Elinor--she who would not have done it to save her life--told--a lie for
Phil? And why should he want her to tell a lie?

Elinor got up from her seat, and stood uncertain, with a cold dew on her
forehead, and her hands clasping and holding each other. Should she go
back to them and say there must be some mistake--that though she had
said the truth it was not true, that there was some mistake, some
dreadful mistake! There was no longer any sound of voices where she was.
The whole incident seemed to have died out. The sudden commotion of
Phil's visit and everything connected with it had passed away. She was
alone in the afternoon, in the hush of nature, looking over the combe,
listening to the rustle of the trees, hearing the bees drone homeward.
Had Phil ever been here at all? Had he watched the distant road windin