uick-sighted man, could really, I believe, give no information; for
he had been generally confined to the house, while the girls were
ranging over the town and making what acquaintance they chose; and he
tried to convince me, as thoroughly as he was convinced himself, of
his daughter's being entirely unconcerned in the business. In short, I
could learn nothing but that she was gone; all the rest, for eight
long months, was left to conjecture. What I thought, what I feared,
may be imagined; and what I suffered too."

"Good heavens!" cried Elinor, "could it be--could Willoughby!"--

"The first news that reached me of her," he continued, "came in a
letter from herself, last October. It was forwarded to me from
Delaford, and I received it on the very morning of our intended party
to Whitwell; and this was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly,
which I am sure must at the time have appeared strange to every body,
and which I believe gave offence to some. Little did Mr. Willoughby
imagine, I suppose, when his looks censured me for incivility in
breaking up the party, that I was called away to the relief of one
whom he had made poor and miserable; but _had_ he known it, what would
it have availed? Would he have been less gay or less happy in the
smiles of your sister? No, he had already done that, which no man who
_can_ feel for another would do. He had left the girl whose youth and
innocence he had seduced, in a situation of the utmost distress, with
no creditable home, no help, no friends, ignorant of his address! He
had left her, promising to return; he neither returned, nor wrote, nor
relieved her."

"This is beyond every thing!" exclaimed Elinor.

"His character is now before you; expensive, dissipated, and worse
than both. Knowing all this, as I have now known it many weeks, guess
what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever,
and on being assured that she was to marry him: guess what I must have
felt for all your sakes. When I came to you last week and found you
alone, I came determined to know the truth; though irresolute what to
do when it _was_ known. My behaviour must have seemed strange to you
then; but now you will comprehend it. To suffer you all to be so
deceived; to see your sister--but what could I do? I had no hope of
interfering with success; and sometimes I thought your sister's
influence might yet reclaim him. But now, after such dishonorable
usage, who can tell what were his