ntinel into the air above and the water below. Mrs.
Dennistoun watched them, sometimes with a little trouble on her face.
She would not say a word to throw suspicions or doubts between them.
She would not awaken in Elinor's mind the thought that any such
possibilities as arise between two young people free of all bonds could
be imagined as affecting her and any man such as her cousin John. Poor
John! if he must be the victim, the victim he must be. Elinor could
not be disturbed that he might go free. And indeed, what good would it
have done to disturb Elinor? It would but have brought consciousness,
embarrassment, and a sense of danger where no such sense was. She was
trebly protected, and without a thought of anything but the calm yet
close relations that had existed so long. He---- but he could take care
of himself, Mrs. Dennistoun reflected in despair; he must take care of
himself. He was a man and must understand what his own risks and perils
were.

"And do you think this plan is a success?" John asked her one day as
they were rowing homeward up the lake. The time of his visit was drawing
to a close; indeed it had drawn to a close several times, and been
lengthened very unadvisedly, yet very irresistibly as he felt.

Her face grew graver than usual, as with a sudden recollection of that
shadow upon her life which Elinor so often seemed to have forgotten. "As
much of a success," she said, "as anything of the kind is likely to be."

"It suits you better than Windyhill?"

"Only in being more out of the world. It is partially out of the world
for a great part of the year; but I suppose no place is so wholly. It
seems impossible to keep from making acquaintances."

"Of course," he said, "I have noticed. You know people here already."

"How can we keep from knowing people? Mamma says it is the same thing
everywhere. If we lived up in that little house which they say is the
highest in England--at the head of the pass--we should meet people I
suppose even there."

"Most likely," he replied; "but the same difficulties can hardly arise."

"You mean we shall not know people so well as at--at home, and will not
be compelled to give an account of ourselves whatever we do? Heaven
knows! There is a vicarage here, and there is a squire's house: and
there are two or three people besides who already begin to inquire if we
are related to So-and-So, if we are the Scotch Dennistouns, or the Irish
Comptons, or I don't know what;