The tutor and
pupil allowed themselves one frequent relaxation, that of Mr. Wilkins's
company. Mr. Ness would stroll to the office after the six hours' hard
reading were over--leaving Mr. Corbet still bent over the table, book
bestrewn--and see what Mr. Wilkins's engagements were. If he had nothing
better to do that evening, he was either asked to dine at the parsonage,
or he, in his careless hospitable way, invited the other two to dine with
him, Ellinor forming the fourth at table, as far as seats went, although
her dinner had been eaten early with Miss Monro. She was little and
slight of her age, and her father never seemed to understand how she was
passing out of childhood. Yet while in stature she was like a child; in
intellect, in force of character, in strength of clinging affection, she
was a woman. There might be much of the simplicity of a child about her,
there was little of the undeveloped girl, varying from day to day like an
April sky, careless as to which way her own character is tending. So the
two young people sat with their elders, and both relished the company
they were thus prematurely thrown into. Mr. Corbet talked as much as
either of the other two gentlemen; opposing and disputing on any side, as
if to find out how much he could urge against received opinions. Ellinor
sat silent; her dark eyes flashing from time to time in vehement
interest--sometimes in vehement indignation if Mr.
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