er hurry when it depends on myself,
nor fidget when it depends on others.
Keep a book going to pacify myself.'

Her rules drawn up, Ethel knelt once more. Then she drew a long sigh,
and wondered where Flora was; and next, as she was fairly fagged, mind
and body, she threw herself back in the armchair, took up a railway
novel that Hector had brought home, and which they had hidden from the
children, and repaired herself with the luxury of an idle reading.

Margaret and Richard likewise spent a peaceful, though pensive
afternoon. Margaret had portions of letters from Alan to read to him,
and a consultation to hold. The hope of her full recovery had so melted
away, that she had, in every letter, striven to prepare Mr. Ernescliffe
for the disappointment, and each that she received in return was so
sanguine and affectionate, that the very fondness was as much grief as
joy. She could not believe that he took in the true state of the case,
or was prepared to perceive that she could never be his wife, and she
wanted Richard to write one of his clear, dispassionate statements,
such as carried full conviction, and to help to put a final end to the
engagement.

"But why," said Richard--"why should you wish to distress him?"

"Because I cannot bear that he should be deceived, and should feed on
false hopes. Do you think it right, Richard?"

"I will write to him, if you like," said Richard; "but I think he
must pretty well know the truth from all the letters to Harry and to
himself."

"It would be so much better for him to settle his mind at once," said
Margaret.

"Perhaps he would not think so--"

There was a pause, while Margaret saw that her brother was thinking. At
last he said, "Margaret, will you pardon me? I do think that this is a
little restlessness. The truth has not been kept from him, and I do
not see that we are called to force it on him. He is sensible and
reasonable, and will know how to judge when he comes home."

"It was to try to save him the pang," murmured Margaret.

"Yes; but it will be worse far away than near. I do not mean that we
should conceal the fact, but you have no right to give him up before he
comes home. The whole engagement was for the time of his voyage."

"Then you think I ought not to break it off before his return?"

"Certainly not."

"It will be pain spared--unless it should be worse by and by."

"I do not suppose we ought to look to by and by," said Richard.