received without any expression of surprise and
read in his presence.

"It is not the first letter I have received from Miss Essie Langden. I
heard from her while you were still away."

Miss Elizabeth's colour changed a little as she said this.

"She did not tell me," said Mr Maxwell.

"I was glad she wrote to me," said Miss Elizabeth.

There had not been much in the first letter, either. Miss Essie had
thanked Miss Holt for her goodness to her friend "Will Maxwell," as she
called him. Then there was something about knowing and loving each
other at some future time, and something more about a common work and a
common purpose in life, and something about "the tie that binds," and
that was all.

It might mean much or little according as it was read, and to Elizabeth
it had meant much. It did not find her altogether untroubled. She had
missed Mr Maxwell more than she had supposed possible, and had been
obliged to confess to herself that the winter in Gershom would be a very
different matter if he were not to be there. But then it would be a
different matter to all the rest of the people, as well as to her, and
so she had quieted herself till Miss Essie's letter came. It startled
her, but the pain it gave her made her glad of its coming. She was
frank with herself, or she meant to be so. She had been receiving and
enjoying more from Mr Maxwell's friendship than could possibly be hers
as time went on and circumstances changed, and then she might miss it
more than would be reasonable or pleasant. So she was very glad that
the letter had been written and awaited Mr Maxwell's return, expecting
to hear more, and preparing herself to be sympathetic and
congratulatory.

But she had heard no more, and she could not but be surprised. For
though he might not for various reasons be ready to make known his
engagement to all Gershom, she thought he owed it to their friendship to
acknowledge it to her.

"I have been longing to congratulate you, Mr Maxwell--though you have
told me nothing," said she as she folded the note and laid it down.

"I have nothing to tell that would call for congratulation--in the way
you mean," said the minister. "But I would like to talk a little to
you, Miss Elizabeth, if you will be so kind as to listen to me."

It was growing dark, and there was only the firelight in the room, and
taking her knitting in her hands, Miss Elizabeth sat down to listen. He
made rather a long story of it,