Then Eleanor's eyes took a very different expression, and she began to devote herself intensely to her sewing.
"If you are very sure," said Bartram, "that your husband is not at home, I must seek him elsewhere, I suppose. Good day! Ah, I beg pardon. I did not notice—I was not aware that it was you, Miss Kimper. I hope if you see your father to-day you will tell him that the good work that he began is progressing finely, and that you saw me in search to-day of Judge Prency to help him on with his efforts down at the church."
And then, with another bow, Bartram left the room.
If poor Jane could have been conscious of the look that Eleanor bent upon her at that instant, she certainly would have been inclined to leave the room and never enter it again. But she knew nothing of it, and the work went on amid oppressive silence. Mrs. Prency had occasion to leave the room for an instant soon after, and Jane lifted her head and said,—
"Who would have thought, Miss, that that young man was going to be so good, and all of a sudden, too?"
"He always was good," said Eleanor, "that is, until now."
"I'm sorry I mentioned it, ma'am, but I s'pose he won't be as wild as he and some of the young men about this town have been."
"What do you mean by wild? Do you mean to say that he ever was wild in any way?"
"Oh, perhaps not," said the unfortunate sewing-girl, wishing herself anywhere else as she tried to find some method of escaping from the unfortunate remark.
"What do you mean, then? Tell me: can't you speak?"