"

"Well," he said, turning on his heel, "if we had the house to
ourselves."

This was the influence Mrs. Dennistoun hoped to acquire by the sacrifice
of her two thousand pounds! When he was gone, instead of covering her
face as she had done when John left her, Mrs. Dennistoun stared into the
vacant air for a minute and then she burst into a laugh. It was not a
mirthful laugh, it may be supposed, or harmonious, and it startled her
as she heard it pealing into the silence. Whether it was loud enough to
wake Elinor up-stairs, or whether she was already close by and heard it,
I cannot tell, but she came in with a little tap at the door and a
smile, a somewhat anxious and forced smile, it is true, upon her face.

"What is the joke?" she said. "I heard you laugh, and I thought I might
come in and share the fun. Somehow, we don't have so much fun as we used
to have. What is it, mamma?"

"It is only a witticism of Philip's, who has been in to see me," said
Mrs. Dennistoun. "I won't repeat it, for probably I should lose the
point of it--you know I always did spoil a joke in repeating it. I have
been speaking to him," she said, after a little pause, during which both
her laugh and Elinor's smile evaporated in the most curious way, leaving
both of them very grave--"of going away, Elinor."

"Of going away!" Elinor suddenly assumed a startled look; but there is
a difference between doing that and being really startled, which her
mother, alas! was quite enlightened enough to see; and surely once more
there was that mingled relief and relaxation in the lines of her face
which Mrs. Dennistoun had seen before.

"Yes, my darling," she said, "it is June, and everything at the Cottage
will be in full beauty. And, perhaps, it would do you more good to come
down there for a day or two when there is nothing doing than to have me
here, which, after all, has not been of very much use to you."

"Oh, don't say that, mamma. Use!--it has been of comfort unspeakable.
But," Elinor added, hurriedly, "I see the force of all you say. To
remain in London at this time of the year must be a far greater
sacrifice than I have any right to ask of you, mamma."

Oh, the furtive, hurried, unreal words! which were such pain and horror
to say with the consciousness of the true sentiment lying underneath;
which made Elinor's heart sink, yet were brought forth with a sort of
hateful fervour, to imitate truth.

Mrs. Dennistoun saw it all. There are times w