hitelaw, Ellen Carley's life seemed to
travel past her as if by some enchantment. Time lost its familiar
sluggishness; the long industrious days, that had been so slow of old,
flew by the bailiff's daughter like the shadows from a magic-lantern. At
the first, after that desperate miserable day upon which the hateful
words were uttered that were to bind her for life to a detested master,
the girl had told herself that something must happen to prevent the
carrying out of this abhorrent bargain. Something would happen. She had a
vague faith that Providence would interfere somehow to save her. Day
after day she looked into her father's face, thinking that from him,
perhaps, might come some sign of wavering, some hint of possible release.
Vain hope. The bailiff having exacted the sacrifice, pretended to think
his daughter's welfare secured by that very act. He did not hesitate to
congratulate her on her good fortune, and to protest, with an accustomed
oath, that there was not a sensible woman in England who would not envy
her so excellent a match. Once poor Ellen, always impetuous and
plain-spoken, lost all patience with him, and asked how he dared to say
such things.

"You know that I hate this man, father!" she cried passionately; "and
that I hate myself for what I am going to do. You know that I have
promised to be his wife for your sake, for your sake only; and that if I
could have saved you from disgrace by giving you my life, I should have
done it gladly to escape this much greater sacrifice. Never speak to me
about Stephen Whitelaw again, father, unless you want to drive me mad.
Let me forget what sin I am going to commit, if I can; let me go on
blindfold."

It was to be observed that from the hour, of her betrothal. Ellen Carley
as far as possible avoided her father's companionship. She worked more
busily than ever about the big old house, was never tired of polishing
the little-used furniture and dusting the tenantless bed-chambers; she
seemed, indeed, to be infected with Mrs. Tadman's passion for superhuman
cleanliness. To her dairy duties also she devoted much more time than of
old; anything to escape the parlour, where her father sat idle for a
considerable portion of the day, smoking his pipe, and drinking rather
more than was good for him. Nor did Mr. Carley, for his part, appear to
dislike this tacit severance between his daughter and himself. As the
foolish young woman chose to accept good fortune in a perve