'I do not think it is fancy. He is a great deal here—more than I like—and now he has no eyes or ears for any one but her. I do not know whether she likes him; I notice she is self-conscious and absorbed when he is here, and that is not at all natural to her.'
'What prospects has he?' asked Gwen abruptly.
'I don't know. I sometimes wish I knew a little more about him. Ever since he has opened the cupboard, he has had something weighing on his mind, and though he tells me he has only about 200 pounds a year to live upon, he seems in no hurry to get anything to do. It is an idle life for him in this small village. He is with his cousin most of his time, but he drops in to see us in the evening; in fact, they both come here a great deal, and though Miss Miller has put her veto on it, nothing will keep them away.'
'I wish Elfie would marry. She is not fit to fight life's battle;' and Gwen sighed as she spoke, and her face relapsed into its now habitual gloom.
But the next day brought a letter that decided Elfie's fate.
She opened it with a grimace at the handwriting.
'Now what does Cousin James want to say to me! Do you think he has heard of our misfortunes?'
She read on, and her face grew thoughtful. Instead of handing it over to any of her sisters to read, she left the room with it in her hand.
And in the privacy of her own bedroom she spread it out before her, and a hard and sore battle commenced in her heart.
The letter was as follows:—