of his foibles; then, reminding his daughter how late it was, and comforting her with much assurance which he hardly felt himself, he sent her to her room, with flowing eyes and a full heart.
When Mr. Harding met his daughter at breakfast the next morning, there was no further discussion on the matter, nor was the subject mentioned between them for some days. Soon after the party Mary Bold called at the hospital, but there were various persons in the drawing-room at the time, and she therefore said nothing about her brother. On the day following, John Bold met Miss Harding in one of the quiet sombre shaded walks of the close: he was most anxious to see her, but unwilling to call at the warden's house, and had in truth waylaid her in her private haunts.
"My sister tells me," said he, abruptly hurrying on with his premeditated speech, "my sister tells me that you had a delightful party the other evening. I was so sorry I could not be there."
"We were all sorry," said Eleanor, with dignified composure.
"I believe, Miss Harding, you understood why, at this moment" And Bold hesitated, muttered, stopped, commenced his explanation again, and again broke down.
Eleanor would not help him in the least.
"I think my sister explained to you, Miss Harding?"
"Pray don't apologise, Mr. Bold; my father will, I am sure, always be glad to see you, if you like to come to the house now as formerly; nothing has occurred to alter his feelings; of your own views you are, of course, the best judge."
"Your father is all that is kind and generous; he always was so, but you, Miss Harding, yourself I hope you will not judge me harshly, because"
"Mr. Bold," said she, "you may be sure of one thing; I shall
