At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest,for Easter fell very early this year--Mr.Corbet came down.Mr.Wilkins was too busy to see much of him;they were together even less than usual,although not less friendly when they did meet.But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness.
Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr.Corbet;but his manners were softened,his opinions less decided and abrupt,and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness,that the young girl basked and revelled in it.One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London;and she then perceived,although it did not jar against her,that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love.He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life;but it was all in vain:she nestled to him,and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line;only if he wished it,she would wish it.
The last two days of his stay the weather changed.Sudden heat burst forth,as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring.The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves.The sky was of full cloudless blue.Mr.
Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover;but,after waiting some time for him,it grew too late,and they were obliged to give up the project.
Nothing would serve Ellinor,then,but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden,on the sunny side of the tree,among the roots of which she used to play when a child.Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's,saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals;but Mr.Corbet overruled all objections,and helped her in her gay preparations.She always kept to the early hours of her childhood,although she,as then,regularly sat with her father at his late dinner;and this meal al fresco was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro.There was a place arranged for her father,and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard,by the shrubbery path,to his study,and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner,accusing him of disappointing them of their ride,and drawing him more than half unwilling,to his chair by the table.But he was silent,and almost sad:his presence damped them all;they could hardly tell why,for he did not object to anything,though he seemed to enjoy nothing,and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies.These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression.She watched him anxiously.He perceived it,and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor!this is not a day for out-of-door tea.I never felt so chilly a spot in my life.I cannot keep from shaking where I sit.
I must leave this place,my dear,in spite of all your good tea.""Oh,papa!I am so sorry.But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf.I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!"But he got up and persisted in leaving the table,although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party.He walked up and down the gravel walk,close by them,talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up.
"Are you warmer now,papa?"asked Ellinor.
"Oh,yes!All right.It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp.I'm as warm as a toast now."The next morning Mr.Corbet left them.The unseasonably fine weather passed away too,and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect;but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much,knowing what absent love existed for her alone,and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds.
I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley,beside their own household and Mr.Ness,knew of Ellinor's engagement.At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood.He had just had a small living given to him in his own county,and he felt as if this was a great step in his life.He was good,innocent,and rather boyish in appearance.Ellinor was happy and at her ease,and chatted away to this Mr.Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common:church music,and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts;Salisbury Cathedral,which they had both seen;styles of church architecture,Ruskin's works,and parish schools,in which Mr.Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest.When the gentleman came in from the dining-room,it struck Ellinor,for the first time in her life,that her father had taken more wine than was good for him.Indeed,this had rather become a habit with him of late;but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case,his daughter had never been aware of it before,and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame.She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was,and after a pause of sick silence,during which she could not say a word,she set to and talked to Mr.Livingstone about parish schools,anything,with redoubled vigour and apparent interest,in order to keep one or two of the company,at least,from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious.