which kept alive her fears, without
totally annihilating hope.

The misty, grey dawn was slowly breaking along the distant hills, when
Grenard Pike, mounted upon a cart-horse which he had borrowed for the
occasion, leisurely paced down the broad avenue of oaks that led through
the park to the high road. Methodical in all his movements, though life
and death depended upon his journey, for no earthly inducement but a
handsome donation in money would Grenard Pike have condescended to
quicken his pace. This Elinor had it not in her power to bestow; and she
calculated with impatience the many hours which must elapse before such
a tardy messenger could reach Norgood Hall. Noon was the earliest period
within the range of possibility; yet the sound of the horse's hoofs,
striking against the frosty ground, still vibrated upon her ear when she
took her station at the chamber window, to watch for the arrival of the
man whose image a separation of nearly twenty years had not been able to
obliterate from her heart. Such is the weakness of human nature, that
we suffer imagination to outspeed time, and compress into one little
moment the hopes, the fears, the anticipations, and the events of years;
but when the spoiler again overtakes us, we look back, and, forgetful of
our former impatience to accelerate his pace, we are astonished at the
rapidity of his flight.

Elinor thought that the long day would never come to a close; yet it was
as dark and as short as a bleak, gloomy day in November could be.
Evening at length came, but brought no Algernon. Mr. Moore had paid his
visit, and was gone. He expected nothing less than the death of his
patient, after giving his consent to such an extraordinary event; and he
had even condescended to take a draught and some pills from the doctor's
hands. It is true that the sight of him, and the effects of the nauseous
medicines he had administered, had put the miser into a fever of
ill-temper; and he sullenly watched his wife, as she lingered hour after
hour at the window, till, in no very gentle accents, he called her to
his bed-side.

At that moment Elinor fancied that she heard the sound of approaching
wheels, and she strained her eyes to discern, through the deepening
gloom, some object that might realize her hopes. "No," she sighed, "it
was but the wind raving through the leafless oaks--the ticking of the
old dial--the throbbing of my own heart. He will not--he cannot come!"

"Woman! what ai