gs into my
mother's head! Let her judge for herself--don't, don't prejudice her,
John. It can be no one's duty to repeat malicious stories when there is
no possibility of proving or disproving them. Don't make her think----
Oh, mamma! we couldn't think where you had gone to. Yes, here is John."

"So I perceive," said Mrs. Dennistoun. It was getting towards evening,
and the room was not very light. She could not distinguish their looks
or the agitation that scarcely could have been hidden but for the dusk.
"You seem to have been having a very animated conversation. I heard your
voices all along the garden walk. Let me have the benefit of it, if
there is anything to tell."

"You know well enough, mamma, what we must have been talking about,"
said Elinor, turning half angrily away.

"To be sure," said the mother, "I ought to have known. There is nothing
so interesting as that sort of thing. I thought, however, you would
probably have put it off a little, Elinor."

"Put it off a little--when it is the thing that concerns us more than
anything else in the world!"

"That is true," said Mrs. Dennistoun, with a sigh. "Did you walk all the
way, John? I meant to have sent the pony-cart for you, but the man was
too late. It is a nice evening though, and coming out of town it is a
good thing for you to have a good walk."

"Yes, I like it more than anything," said John, "but the evening is not
so very fine. The wind is high, and I shouldn't wonder if we had rain."

"The wind is always high here," said Mrs. Dennistoun. "We don't have our
view for nothing; but the sky is quite clear in the west, and all the
clouds blowing away. I don't think we shall have more than a shower."

Elinor stood listening to this talk with restrained impatience, as if
waiting for the moment when they should come to something worth talking
about. Then she gave herself a sort of shake--half weary, half
indignant--and left the room. There was a moment's silence, until her
quick step was heard going to the other end of the house and up-stairs,
and the shutting of a door.

"Oh, John, I am very uneasy, very uneasy," said Mrs. Dennistoun. "I
scarcely thought she would have begun to you about it at once; but then
I am doing the very same. We can't think of anything else. I am not
going to worry you before dinner, for you must be tired with your walk,
and want to refresh yourself before we enter upon that weary, weary
business. But my heart misgives me dre