nce more Phil dined at his club that evening and Elinor with her
mother. She was in an eager and excited state, looking anxiously in Mrs.
Dennistoun's eyes, but it was not till late in the evening that she made
any remark. At last, just before they parted for the night, she threw
herself upon her mother with a little cry--"Oh, mamma, I know you are
right, I know you are quite right. But if you could have done it, it
would have given you an influence! I don't blame you--not for a
moment--but it might have given you an opening to speak. It might
have--given you a little hold on him."

"My darling, my darling!" said Mrs. Dennistoun.

"No," said Elinor, "there's nothing to pity me about, nothing at
all--Phil is always kind and good to me--but you would have had a
standing ground. It might have given you a right to speak--about those
dreadful, dreadful city complications, mamma."

Mrs. Dennistoun went to bed that night a troubled woman, and lay awake
watching and expecting when the usual midnight tumult should arise. But
that evening there was none. No sound but the key in the latch, the
shutting of a door or two, and all quiet. Compunctions filled the
mother's heart. What was the wrong if, perhaps, she could satisfy
Elinor, perhaps get at the heart of Phil, who had a heart, though it
was getting strangled in all those intricacies of gambling and wretched
business. She turned over and over in her mind all that she had, and all
that she had any power over. And she remembered a small sum she had in a
mortgage, which was after all in her own power. No doubt it would be to
throw the money away, which would be so much gone from the future
provision of Elinor--but if by that means she could acquire an influence
as Elinor said--be allowed to speak--to protest or perhaps even insist
upon a change of course? Thinking over such a question for a whole
sleepless night, and feeling beneath all that at least, at worst, this
sacrifice would give pleasure to Elinor, which was really the one and
sole motive, the only thing that could give her any warrant for such a
proceeding--is not a process which is likely to strengthen the mind. In
the morning, as soon as she knew he was up, which was not till late
enough, she sent to ask if Phil would give her five minutes before he
went out. He appeared after a while, extremely correct and _point
device_, grave but polite. "I must ask you to excuse me," he said, "if I
am hurried, for to-day is one of