They found Miss Agnes in the drawing-room; she, it seemed, already knew of Hazlehurst's departure. She said little on the subject, but looked anxious and absent. Elinor scarcely knew what to think; she was afraid to trust herself to make any inquiries, preferring to wait until alone with her aunt after breakfast. The meal passed over in silence. Mr. Wyllys looked uneasy; Elinor was at a loss to know what to think; neither of the ladies paid much attention to the morning meal that day.
Miss Agnes rose from table, and went to her own room; Elinor, neglecting her usual task as housekeeper, hastened to follow her aunt, her mind filled with indistinct fears and anxieties. Miss Agnes was walking about her room, looking pained and distressed.
Several letters were lying on a table near her; two were unopened; one she had been reading.
"Letters!--my dear Aunt, from whom? Tell me, I conjure you, what you know! Has anything happened to Louisa--to Jane? Did Harry leave no message for me?" cried Elinor, hurrying towards her aunt, whose face she watched for an answer to each question, as she asked it. Miss Wyllys made an effort to compose herself, and held out her hand to Elinor.
"My dearest Aunt!--pray tell me what distresses you--Ha! Harry's handwriting!" she exclaimed, as her eye fell on the open letter by Miss Wyllys--"I know that letter is from Harry; do not conceal anything; is it for me?"
"This letter is to me, my child," replied her aunt, taking up the one she had been reading; wishing to give Elinor all the preparation in her power, for a blow which she knew must fall heavily, since it was so entirely unexpected.
"But there are two other letters," cried Elinor, "one of them is for me, I am sure. Let me see it at once, Aunt; you cannot deny that it is for me--and if it contain bad news, you know that I can command myself when necessary."
Miss Agnes's hand trembled as she took the letters.
"My child! My beloved Elinor!" she said.
"Dearest Aunt, you torture me! Tell me, I beseech you, what we have to fear!"
"You shall know all," Miss Agnes replied, seating herself; and endeavouring to be calm. "You will be much distressed, my child; but I know that you will be now, what you always have been, reasonable, and true to yourself--to your grandfather--to me," added Miss Wyllys, in a voice almost inarticulate.
A thousand indistinct ideas passed through Elinor's mind with the rapidity of lightning, while her aunt was speaking; illness of some absent friend suggested itself--yet who could it be? Not Harry, surely, for he had gone over to Upper Lewiston that morning--yet her fears instinctively centred upon Hazlehurst.
"It is something relating to Harry, I am sure," she said. "Is he ill?--is he in trouble?" she asked in a faint voice, while a prayer for resignation sprang from her heart, with the words.
"You are right," replied Miss Wyllys, in a faltering voice; and seating herself by her niece, she continued, "He is well. If he is in trouble, it is from his own choice. Have you no suspicions, my dearest child, of what has happened?"
"Suspicions!"--exclaimed Elinor, in astonishment, "what is there for me to suspect? My dearest Aunt, I am more and more perplexed--explain it all yourself--who is it you are concerned for?"
"My only concern is for you, dearest; my only regret, that trouble should have been brought on you by those dear to you--by your grandfather, by myself, by your cousins."
"By you!--by my cousins--what cousins?"
"Harry--Jane--Have you remarked nothing?"
"Harry! what can he have done?"
"You must forget him," said Miss Wyllys; and as Elinor looked eagerly in her aunt's eyes, she read there all that Miss Agnes had not courage to tell in words.
Half starting from her seat, she exclaimed, "Harry!--and Jane too!" and as a deadly paleness came over her face, she fell back, unconscious, on the sofa. Her faintness lasted but a moment; too short a time, indeed, to allow the impression of what she had heard to pass from her mind. She burst into tears. "Oh, Aunt Agnes!--Is it really true?--Can Harry have changed? can he have been so unkind to me?--And Jane, too!" she exclaimed at intervals.
Her aunt answered only by her caresses, silently pressing her lips upon Elinor's forehead.
Elinor threw her arms about Miss Agnes's neck, weeping bitterly.
"But is it really true? Is there not some mistake? Is it possible he felt so little for me? Oh, dearest Aunt!--and Jane, too!"
Miss Wyllys said that she knew nothing of Jane's feelings; but that the manner of both Jane and Harry had struck her several times as singular; though now but too easily accounted for.
During the last ten days, she had begun to fear something wrong.
"Never, for one second, had I a doubt of either!" cried Elinor.
She now dreaded to receive the letter, she had before asked for so eagerly.
