nes thought, that she was getting a little slower in her
movements, a little dulled in her thoughts?

CHAPTER XL.

John Tatham had in vain attempted to persuade Elinor to come to his
house, to dine there in comfort--he was going out himself--so that
at least in this time of excitement and trouble she might have the
careful service and admirable comfort of his well-managed house. Elinor
preferred her favourite lodgings and a cup of tea to all the luxuries of
Halkin Street. And she was fit for no more consultations that night. She
had many, many things to think of, and some new which as yet she barely
comprehended. The rooms in Ebury Street were small, and they were more
or less dingy, as such rooms are; but they were comfortable enough, and
had as much of home to Elinor as repeated visits there with all her
belongings could give them. The room in which she slept was next to
that in which her boy had usually slept. That was enough to make it
no strange place. And I need not say that it became the scene of many
discussions during the few days that followed. The papers by this time
were full of the strange trial which was coming on: the romance of
commercial life and ruin--the guilty man who had been absent so long,
enjoying his ill-gotten gains, and who now was dragged back into the
light to give an account of himself--and of other guilt perhaps less
black than his own, yet dreadful enough to hear of. The story of the
destroyed books was a most remarkable and picturesque incident in the
narrative. The leading papers looked up their own account of the facts
given at the time, and pointed out how evidently justified by the new
facts made known to the public was the theory they had themselves given
forth. As these theories, however, were very different, and as all
claimed to be right, perhaps the conclusion was less certain than
this announcement gave warrant to believe. But each and all promised
"revelations" of the most surprising kind--involving some of the highest
aristocracy, the democratic papers said--bringing to light an exciting
story of the private relations between husband and wife, said those of
society, and revealing a piquant chapter of social history hushed up at
the time. It was a modest print indeed that contented itself with the
statement that its readers would find a romance of real life involved in
the trial which was about to take place. Elinor did not, fortunately,
see all these comments. The _T