"John has come back so suddenly," said Mary, coming into the room; "he has been travelling all night."
"Then I'll come up again some other time," said Eleanor, about to beat a retreat in her sudden dismay.
"He's out now, and will be for the next two hours," said the other; "he's with that horrid Finney; he only came to see him, and he returns by the mail train to-night."
Returns by the mail train to-night, thought Eleanor to herself, as she strove to screw up her courage—away again to-night—then it must be now or never; and she again sat down, having risen to go.
She wished the ordeal could have been postponed: she had fully made up her mind to do the deed, but she had not made up her mind to do it this very day; and now she felt ill at ease, astray, and in difficulty.
"Mary," she began, "I must see your brother before he goes back."
"Oh yes, of course," said the other; "I know he'll be delighted to see you;" and she tried to treat it as a matter of course, but she was not the less surprised; for Mary and Eleanor had daily talked over John Bold and his conduct, and his love, and Mary would insist on calling Eleanor her sister, and would scold her for not calling Bold by his Christian name; and Eleanor would half confess her love, but like a modest maiden would protest against such familiarities even with the name of her lover: and so they talked hour after hour, and Mary Bold, who was much the elder, looked forward with happy confidence to the day when Eleanor would not be ashamed to call her her sister. She was, however, fully sure that just at present Eleanor would be much more likely to avoid her brother than to seek him.
"Mary, I must see your brother, now, to-day, and beg from him a great favour;" and she spoke with a solemn air, not at
