servant on the place pitied her exhaustion, or believed in her affection or repentance.
"It's her jointure and her widow's right she's watching," said Mrs. Parsons, indignantly.
And it was not only the servants who held this opinion. In one form or other all of the squire's friends and retainers were sure of his wife's selfishness. Had he died, it was not improbable that they would have felt still harder towards her, and put a still darker interpretation on her devotion by his sick-bed. The Bashpooles honestly regarded her presence as suspicious and dangerous, and if the unhappy wife's positive orders and determination had not been steadily supported by the attending physicians, Squire Bashpoole would very likely have made an active and unpleasant interference.
When Anthony came to himself it was about an hour after midnight. He had been in a profound sleep for fourteen hours, and Eleanor had suffered no foot to enter the corridor in which he lay. She was cold, she was hungry, she was on the point of exhaustion, but she stirred not In a large chair by his side she sat motionless, waiting for life or death. At length she noticed him breathe more audibly. The
