everything and not saying a word that is too much for
me."

"Then I will grumble, Elinor. I will even say something to him for our
own credit. He should not come in so late--at least when he comes in he
should come in to rest and not bring men with him to make a noise. You
see I can find fault as much as heart could desire. I am dreadfully
selfish. I don't mind when he goes out now and then without you, for
then I have you; but he should not bring noisy men with him to disturb
the house in the middle of the night. I think I will speak to him----"

"No," said Elinor, with a clutch upon her mother's arm; "no, don't do
that. He does not like to be found fault with. Unless in the case--if
you were giving him that money, mother."

"Which I cannot do: and Elinor, my darling, which I would not do if I
could. It is all you will have to rely upon, you and----"

"It would have been the only chance," said Elinor. "I don't say it would
have been much of a chance. But he might have listened, if---- Oh, no,
dear mother, no. I would not in my sober senses wish that you should
give him a penny. It would do no good, but only harm. And yet if you had
done it, you might have said---- and he might have listened to you for
once----"

CHAPTER XX.

A few days after this Philip Compton came in, in the afternoon, to the
little room down-stairs which Mrs. Dennistoun had made into a
sitting-room for herself. Elinor had gone out with her sister-in-law,
and her mother was alone. It was a very rare thing indeed for Mrs.
Dennistoun's guest--who, indeed, was to all intents and purposes the
master of the house, and had probably quite forgotten by this time that
he was not in reality so--to pay a visit "down-stairs." "Down-stairs"
had a distinct meaning in the Compton vocabulary. It was spoken of with
significance, and with a laugh, as something half hostile, half
ridiculous. It meant a sort of absurd criticism and inspection,
as of some old crone sitting vigilant, spying upon everything--a
mother-in-law. Phil's cronies thought it was the most absurd weakness on
his part to let such an intruder get footing in his house. "You will
never get rid of her," they said. And Phil, though he was generally
quite civil to his wife's mother (being actually and at his heart more a
gentleman than he had the least idea he was), did not certainly in any
way seek her society. He scarcely ever dined at home, as has been said;
when he had not an engagement-