the very nature of which Jonathan hardly understood, and of a kind which can only be inflicted by women. On her return home she had been met by Mrs, Parsons, her house-keeper, with a polite but extreme coldness, and, though that personage scrupulously obeyed her orders, Eleanor could feel that the service was given under mental protest.
And oh, how the familiar rooms reproached her! She remembered with what loving lavishness Anthony had adorned them for her reception. And though she had so wickedly abandoned her home and duty he had permitted nothing of hers to be disturbed. Her rich and beautiful clothing hung in the wardrobes as she had left it. The jewels and laces she had been wearing were still lying loosely scattered over her dressing-table. Alas, alas, what sorrow and shame, what anxiety and loss, what heart-burnings and heartaches, that night's sinful passion had caused!
She took her place by her husband's sick-bed at once, and she remained there through all kinds of unspoken disapproval. Her sleepless service, her patient love, her never-wearying watch, were all doubtfully regarded. Not a
