end as that," he said. "You want to force me into a corner and
make me say things I never meant. The question is serious enough without
that."

There was again a little pause, and then Elinor, with one of those
changes which are so perplexing to sober-minded people, suddenly turned
to him, holding out both her hands.

"John--we'll leave that in God's hands whatever is to happen to me. But
in the meantime, while I am living--and perhaps my life depends upon
being quiet and having a little peace and rest. It is not that I care
very much for my life," said Elinor, with that clear, open-eyed look,
like the sky after rain--"I am shipwrecked, John, as you say--but my
mother does, and it's of--some--consequence--to baby; and if it depends
upon whether I am left alone, you are too good a friend to leave me in
the lurch. And you said--one night--whatever happened I was to send for
you."

John sprang up from his seat, dropping the hands which he had taken into
his own. She was like Queen Katherine, "about to weep," and her breast
strained with the sobbing effort to keep it down.

"For God's sake," he cried, "don't play upon our hearts like this! I
will do anything--everything--whatever you choose to tell me. Aunt,
don't let her cry, don't let her go on like that. Why, good heavens!" he
cried, bursting himself into a kind of big sob, "won't it be bad for
that little brat of a baby or something if she keeps going on in this
way?"

Thus John Tatham surrendered at discretion. What could he do more? A
man cannot be played upon like an instrument without giving out sounds
of which he will, perhaps, be ashamed. And this woman appealing to
him--this girl--looking like the little Elinor he remembered, younger
and softer in her weakness and trouble than she had been in her beauty
and pride--was the creature after all, though she would never know it,
whom he loved best in the world. He had wanted to save her, in the
one worldly way of saving her, from open shipwreck, for her own sake,
against every prejudice and prepossession of his mind. But if she would
not have that, why it was his business to save her as she wished, to do
for her whatever she wanted; to act as her agent, her champion, whatever
she pleased.

He was sent away presently, and accepted his dismissal with thankfulness,
to smoke his cigar. This is one amusing thing in a feminine household. A
man is supposed to want all manner of little indulgences and not to be
able t