For, of course, he had spoken to her of Miss Elizabeth, as he had spoken of others who were his special friends among his parishioners. Miss Martha had been set right as to her age and her place in the world of Gershom, and he had answered many questions with regard to her. He had answered questions about other people too—about John McNider, and the Flemings and Miss Betsey, and there might come a little letter to one of them some day. He laughed when he thought of this, but he did not laugh when he thought of giving the note to Miss Elizabeth.
He need not have been troubled. It was a very innocent little letter, which Miss Elizabeth received without any expression of surprise and read in his presence.
“It is not the first letter I have received from Miss Essie Langden. I heard from her while you were still away.”
Miss Elizabeth’s colour changed a little as she said this.
“She did not tell me,” said Mr Maxwell.
“I was glad she wrote to me,” said Miss Elizabeth.
There had not been much in the first letter, either. Miss Essie had thanked Miss Holt for her goodness to her friend “Will Maxwell,” as she called him. Then there was something about knowing and loving each other at some future time, and something more about a common work and a common purpose in life, and something about “the tie that binds,” and that was all.
It might mean much or little according as it was read, and to Elizabeth it had meant much. It did not find her altogether untroubled. She had missed Mr Maxwell more than she had supposed possible, and had been obliged to confess to herself that the winter in Gershom would be a very different matter if he were not to be there. But then it would be a different matter to all the rest of the people, as well as to her, and so she had quieted herself till Miss Essie’s letter came. It startled her, but the pain it gave her made her glad of its coming. She was frank with herself, or she meant to be so. She had been receiving and enjoying more from Mr Maxwell’s friendship than could possibly be hers as time went on and circumstances changed, and then she might miss it more than would be reasonable or pleasant. So she was very glad that the letter had been written and awaited Mr Maxwell’s return, expecting to hear more, and preparing herself to be sympathetic and congratulatory.
But she had heard no more, and she could not but be surprised. For though he might not for various reasons be ready to make known his engagement to all Gershom, she thought he owed it to their friendship to acknowledge it to her.
“I have been longing to congratulate you, Mr Maxwell—though you have told me nothing,” said she as she folded the note and laid it down.