A Dark Night's Work Read Online Free PDF Page B

perceive any alteration in himself, and indeed his early-matured
character had hardly made progress during the last twelve months whatever
intellectual acquirements he might have made. Therefore it was
astonishing to him to see the alteration in Ellinor Wilkins. She had
shot up from a rather puny girl to a tall, slight young lady, with
promise of great beauty in the face, which a year ago had only been
remarkable for the fineness of the eyes. Her complexion was clear now,
although colourless—twelve months ago he would have called it sallow—her
delicate cheek was smooth as marble, her teeth were even and white, and
her rare smiles called out a lovely dimple.
    She met her former friend and lecturer with a grave shyness, for she
remembered well how they had parted, and thought he could hardly have
forgiven, much less forgotten, her passionate flinging away from him. But
the truth was, after the first few hours of offended displeasure, he had
ceased to think of it at all. She, poor child, by way of proving her
repentance, had tried hard to reform her boisterous tom-boy manners, in
order to show him that, although she would not give up her dear old
friend Dixon, at his or anyone's bidding, she would strive to profit by
his lectures in all things reasonable. The consequence was, that she
suddenly appeared to him as an elegant dignified young lady, instead of
the rough little girl he remembered. Still below her somewhat formal
manners there lurked the old wild spirit, as he could plainly see after a
little more watching; and he began to wish to call this out, and to
strive, by reminding her of old days, and all her childish frolics, to
flavour her subdued manners and speech with a little of the former
originality.
    In this he succeeded. No one, neither Mr. Wilkins, nor Miss Monro, nor
Mr. Ness, saw what this young couple were about—they did not know it
themselves; but before the summer was over they were desperately in love
with each other, or perhaps I should rather say, Ellinor was desperately
in love with him—he, as passionately as he could be with anyone; but in
him the intellect was superior in strength to either affections or
passions.
    The causes of the blindness of those around them were these: Mr. Wilkins
still considered Ellinor as a little girl, as his own pet, his darling,
but nothing more. Miss Monro was anxious about her own improvement. Mr.
Ness was deep in a new edition of "Horace," which he was going to bring
out with notes. I believe Dixon would have been keener sighted, but
Ellinor kept Mr. Corbet and Dixon apart for obvious reasons—they were
each her dear friends, but she knew that Mr. Corbet did not like Dixon,
and suspected that the feeling was mutual.
    The only change of circumstances between this year and the previous one
consisted in this development of attachment between the young people.
Otherwise, everything went on apparently as usual. With Ellinor the
course of the day was something like this: up early and into the garden
until breakfast time, when she made tea for her father and Miss Monro in
the dining-room, always taking care to lay a little nosegay of freshly-
gathered flowers by her father's plate. After breakfast, when the
conversation had been on general and indifferent subjects, Mr. Wilkins
withdrew into the little study so often mentioned. It opened out of a
passage that ran between the dining-room and the kitchen, on the left
hand of the hall. Corresponding to the dining-room on the other side of
the hall was the drawing-room, with its side-window serving as a door
into a conservatory, and this again opened into the library. Old Mr.
Wilkins had added a semicircular projection to the library, which was
lighted by a dome above, and showed off his son's Italian purchases of
sculpture. The library was by far the most striking and agreeable room
in the house; and the consequence was that the drawing-room was seldom
used, and had the aspect of cold discomfort common to apartments