that he owed his dignity of Assistant. As a
Puritan, he was, or at least believed himself to be, opposed to a
marriage between Eveline and Arundel on the same principle which had
at first influenced her father, and been corrected only by the dawning
light of eternity. Shortly before the decease of his friend, Spikeman
had frequently, though never in the presence of Eveline, combated
Dunning's resolution with which he had been made acquainted, but in
vain. Had he dared, he would have resorted to one or more of the
elders to exert their potent influence, but this would have been to
betray the secret, and in case of their failure, might have placed
himself in an unpleasant predicament. He concluded it was better to
lock it up in his own breast, and so remain master of his actions and
of her destiny, at least till her majority, which lacked two years
before attainment. During that time, his circumstances might
change--she might decease--no one knew what was in the future.

It is not, therefore, surprising that the Assistant did not write to
England to inform Edmund Dunning's relatives of his death; much less
that he did not inform Arundel of the fact. Months slowly dragged by,
and yet the expecting girl received no word from home. At first
Spikeman accounted for it by the length of time required to make the
passage between the countries; afterwards by the supposition that the
letters might have failed, or intimating that Arundel had probably
changed his mind. A cold pang, as if she had been stabbed by an
icicle, pierced the bosom of Eveline at this cruel suggestion, and she
felt utterly desolute. What, however, frightened and depressed her
spirit, only roused the indignation of Prudence Rix, her attendant
from England, who even then had a sharper insight into the character
of the Assistant than her mistress.

"Hey-day!" she exclaimed; "to think that Master Miles, the handsomest
and darlingest young gentleman in Devonshire, and who, if he was only
a painter, looked grander and gave away more gold pieces than many a
lord she'd known, and who worshipped Mistress Eveline like some pagans
she'd heard of did the sun, should think of forgetting her! It was
precious nonsense. For her part, if she was Mistress Eveline, she
would write to him herself, without letting old vinegar-face know
anything about it."

The advice was not thrown away on the young lady, though with an
instinctive delicacy she did not follow it literally. Ins