demonstrations. “Yes, I will write; I will write, never fear!” and she bolted the door behind him, and was thankful.
Two minutes afterwards there was a low tap; she undid the fastenings, and there he stood, pale in the moonlight.
“Please don’t tell her I came to ask about her; she might not like it.”
“No, no! not I! Poor creature, she’s not likely to care to hear anything this long while. She never roused at Mr. Corbet’s name.”
“Mr. Corbet’s!” said Livingstone, below his breath, and he turned and went away; this time for good. But Ellinor recovered. She knew she was recovering, when day after day she felt involuntary strength and appetite return. Her body seemed stronger than her will; for that would have induced her to creep into her grave, and shut her eyes for ever on this world, so full of troubles.
She lay, for the most part, with her eyes closed, very still and quiet; but she thought with the intensity of one who seeks for lost peace, and cannot find it. She began to see that if in the mad impulses of that mad nightmare of horror, they had all strengthened each other, and dared to be frank and open, confessing a great fault, a greater disaster, a greater woe—which in the first instance was hardly
