day's work, thou wilt be glad to turn thy back on me."
"Never! I'd never, never do that."
The tears trembled in Jonathan's eyes, and his lips quivered as he spoke. Eleanor bent forward and took his hands in hers, and kissed them, and said solemnly, once more, "I would never, never do that, father."
But the conversation made her very miserable. It was quite evident from it that Jonathan neither expected nor desired a compromise, and that any reconciliation she made with her husband would be repudiated by him; for, in spite of what he had said to his daughter about his utter ruin, he still believed in his case, and felt certain of success if he could only keep going for a few months longer. But, oh! the misery of the law's delay! The fears and hopes and doubts that broke that long summer to pieces left traces on both Jonathan and Eleanor that no future years ever quite effaced.
Towards the end of December, when the crisis in Jonathan's affairs was approaching, he became strangely calm. It was as if he had exhausted every energy in some tremendous effort and a patient watching for events was all that
