“That was all, you are sure?”

“Yes.  He immediately applied the case to me—­to ourselves.”

“And he never wanted to know what was the nature of the threatened disgrace?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And you told him?”

“No, not a word more.  He referred to the subject again to-day, in the shrubbery; but I told him nothing more.  You quite believe me, don’t you, papa?”

He pressed her to him, but did not speak.  Then he took the note up again, and read it with as much care and attention as he could collect in his agitated state of mind.

“Nelly,” said he, at length, “he says true; he is not good enough for thee.  He shrinks from the thought of the disgrace.  Thou must stand alone, and bear the sins of thy father.”

He shook so much as he said this, that Ellinor had to put any suffering of her own on one side, and try to confine her thoughts to the necessity of getting her father immediately up to bed.  She sat by him till he went to sleep, and she could leave him, and go to her own room, to forgetfulness and rest, if she could find those priceless blessings.

CHAPTER X.

Mr. Corbet was so well known at the Parsonage by the two old servants, that he had no difficulty, on reaching it, after his departure from Ford Bank, in having the spare bed-chamber made ready for him, late as it was, and in the absence of the master, who had taken a little holiday, now that Lent and Easter were over, for the purpose of fishing.  While his room was getting ready, Ralph sent for his clothes, and by the same messenger he despatched the little note to Ellinor.  But there was the letter he had promised her in it still to be written; and it was almost his night’s employment to say enough, yet not too much; for, as he expressed it to himself, he was half way over the stream, and it would be folly to turn back, for he had given nearly as much pain both to himself and Ellinor by this time as he should do by making the separation final.  Besides, after Mr. Wilkins’s speeches that evening—­but he was candid enough to acknowledge that, bad and offensive as they had been, if they had stood alone they might have been condoned.

His letter ran as follows: 

“DEAREST ELLINOR, for dearest you are, and I think will ever be, my judgment has consented to a step which is giving me great pain, greater than you will readily believe.  I am convinced that it is better that we should part; for circumstances have occurred since we formed our engagement which, although I am unaware of their exact nature, I can see weigh heavily upon you, and have materially affected your father’s behaviour.  Nay, I think, after to-night, I may almost say have entirely altered his feelings towards me.  What these circumstances are I am ignorant, any further than that I know from your own admission, that they may lead to some future disgrace.  Now,