moment, she returned with equal tenderness the next.
"Indeed, dearest," said Madeline, gently, "I cannot guess how I hurt you, and still less, how Eugene has offended you?"
"He has offended me in nothing," replied Ellinor, still weeping, "if he has not stolen away all your affection from me. But I was a foolish girl, forgive me, as you always do; and at this time I need your kindness, for I am very—very unhappy."
"Unhappy, dearest Nell, and why?"
Ellinor wept on without answering.
Madeline persisted in pressing for a reply; and at length her sister sobbed out:
"I know that—that—Walter only has eyes for you, and a heart for you, who neglect, who despise his love; and I—I—but no matter, he is going to leave us, and of me—poor me, he will think no more!"
Ellinor's attachment to their cousin, Madeline had long half suspected, and she had often rallied her sister upon it; indeed it might have been this suspicion which made her at the first steel her
