For Jenny knew Eleonora of old, through Emily's letters, and had no doubt of her rectitude, constancy, and deep principle, though she was at the present time petrified by constant antagonism to such untruthfulness as, where it cannot corrupt, almost always hardens those who come in contact with it. And this cruel idea of self- sacrifice was, no doubt, completing the indurating process. Jenny knew the terrible responsibility of giving such advice. She had not done it lightly. She had been feeling for years past that "'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all;" and she knew that uncertainty of the right to love and trust would have been a pang beyond all she had suffered. To give poor Eleonora, situated as she now was, admission to the free wholesome atmosphere of the Charnock family, was to her kind heart irresistible; and it was pleasant to feel the poor girl clinging to her, as people do to those who have given the very counsel the heart craved for. It was twilight when the walk was over, and the drawing-room was empty; but Anne came to invite them to Mrs. Poynsett's tea, saying that Cecil had Lady Tyrrell in her own sitting-room. Perhaps Mrs. Poynsett had not realized who was Jenny's companion, for she seemed startled at their entrance; and Jenny said, "You remember Lenore Vivian?" "I must have seen you as a child," said Mrs. Poynsett, courteously. "You are very like your sister." This, though usually a great compliment, disappointed Eleonora, as she answered, rather frigidly, "So people say." "Have you walked far?" "To the Outwood Lodge." "To-day? Was it not very damp in the woods?" "Oh no, delightful!" "Lena and I are old friends," said Jenny; "too glad to meet to heed the damp." Here Raymond entered, with the air of a man who had just locked up a heavy post-bag at the last possible moment; and he too was amazed, though he covered it by asking why the party was so small. "Rosamond has gone to meet her husband, and Cecil has her guest in her own domains." Then Jenny asked after his day's work--a county matter, interesting to all the magistracy, and their womankind in their degree; and Eleonora listened in silence, watching with quiet heedfulness Frank's mother and brother. When Frank himself came in, his face was a perfect study; and the colour mantled in her cheeks, so that Jenny trusted that both were touched by the wonderful beauty that a little softness and timidity brought out on the features, usually so resolutely on guard. But when, in the later evening, Jenny crept in to her old friend, hoping to find that the impression had been favourable, she only heard, "Exactly like her sister, who always had the making of a fine countenance." "The mask--yes, but Lena has the spirit behind the mask. Poor girl! she is not at all happy in the atmosphere her sister has brought home." "Then I wish they would marry her!" "Won't you believe how truly nice and good she is?"