"What has become of Mr. Ralston, your old friend?" admirer, he would have said, but he deemed it unwise.
"He is a lawyer here, in a small way. I believe they think of sending him to Congress."
"Is he married?"
"No."
"I thought he seemed to be attached to you; at least I hoped that he would become my cousin."
"I will answer your questions in regard to others—my own affairs do not require remark."
This rebuke, so unlike any thing he had ever received from his cousin, led him to fix his gaze upon her countenance, as if to make sure of her identity. There could be no mistake. There was the same brilliant eye, the same faultless features on which he had gazed in former years. A conciliating smile led him to resume his inquiries.
"Is Eliza Austin married?" His voice, as he asked this question, was far from natural, perhaps in consequence of the agitation which the rebuke just spoken of had occasioned.
"No; she lives somewhere in the village, I don't know exactly where."
"Do you ever see her?"