Mr. Wilkins, too, had begun to feel the restraint of Ralph’s grave watchful presence.  Ellinor was not strong enough to be married; nor was the promised money forthcoming if she had been.  And to have a fellow dawdling about the house all day, sauntering into the flower-garden, peering about everywhere, and having a kind of right to put all manner of unexpected questions, was anything but agreeable.  It was only Ellinor that clung to his presence—­clung as though some shadow of what might happen before they met again had fallen on her spirit.  As soon as he had left the house she flew up to a spare bedroom window, to watch for the last glimpse of the fly which was taking him into the town.  And then she kissed the part of the pane on which his figure, waving an arm out of the carriage window, had last appeared; and went down slowly to gather together all the things he had last touched—­the pen he had mended, the flower he had played with, and to lock them up in the little quaint cabinet that had held her treasures since she was a tiny child.

Miss Monro was, perhaps, very wise in proposing the translation of a difficult part of Dante for a distraction to Ellinor.  The girl went meekly, if reluctantly, to the task set her by her good governess, and by-and-by her mind became braced by the exertion.

Ralph’s people were not very slow in discovering that something had not gone on quite smoothly with him at Ford Bank.  They knew his ways and looks with family intuition, and could easily be certain thus far.  But not even his mother’s skilfulest wiles, nor his favourite sister’s coaxing, could obtain a word or a hint; and when his father, the squire, who had heard the opinions of the female part of the family on this head, began, in his honest blustering way, in their tete-a-tetes after dinner, to hope that Ralph was thinking better than to run his head into that confounded Hamley attorney’s noose, Ralph gravely required Mr. Corbet to explain his meaning, which he professed not to understand so worded.  And when the squire had, with much perplexity, put it into the plain terms of hoping that his son was thinking of breaking off his engagement to Miss Wilkins, Ralph coolly asked him if he was aware that, in that case, he should lose all title to being a man of honour, and might have an action brought against him for breach of promise?

Yet not the less for all this was the idea in his mind as a future possibility.

Before very long the Corbet family moved en masse to Stokely Castle for the wedding.  Of course, Ralph associated on equal terms with the magnates of the county, who were the employers of Ellinor’s father, and spoke of him always as “Wilkins,” just as they spoke of the butler as “Simmons.”  Here, too, among a class of men high above local gossip, and thus unaware of his engagement, he learnt the popular opinion respecting his future father-in-law; an opinion not entirely respectful, though intermingled