s only that place that seems so chilly and
damp. I'm as warm as a toast now."

The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather
passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary
aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent
love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously
trusting in the sun behind the clouds.

I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley,
beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At
one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it
was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was
taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He
had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt
as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and
rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and
chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest
which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty
they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which
they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and
parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find
that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the
dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her
father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had
rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go
quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had
never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her
cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of
his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of
sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and
talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled
vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company,
at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious.

The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept
Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also
riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and
agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitc