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? ? ? ? "Errand! To me!"

? ? ? ? "How shall I tell you! Oh! How shall I tell you!"

? ? ? ? A new idea now darted into Catherine's mind, and turning as pale as her friend, she exclaimed, "'Tis a messenger from Woodston!"

? ? ? ? "You are mistaken, indeed," returned Eleanor, looking at her most compassionately; "it is no one from Woodston. It is my father himself." Her voice faltered, and her eyes were turned to the ground as she mentioned his name. His unlooked-for return was enough in itself to make Catherine's heart sink, and for a few moments she hardly supposed there were anything worse to be told. She said nothing; and Eleanor, endeavouring to collect herself and speak with firmness, but with eyes still cast down, soon went on. "You are too good, I am sure, to think the worse of me for the part I am obliged to perform. I am indeed a most unwilling messenger. After what has so lately passed, so lately been settled between us--how joyfully, how thankfully on my side!--as to your continuing here as I hoped for many, many weeks longer, how can I tell you that your kindness is not to be accepted--and that the happiness your company has hitherto given us is to be repaid by-- But I must not trust myself with words. My dear Catherine, we are to part.


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