travelling with my own horses, and therefore so tediously — no creature to speak to — my own reflections so cheerful — when I looked forward every thing so inviting! — when I looked back at Barton, the picture so soothing! — oh, it was a blessed journey!”

He stopped.

“Well, sir,” said Elinor, who, though pitying him, grew impatient for his departure, “and this is all?”

“Ah! — no, — have you forgot what passed in town? — That infamous letter — Did she shew it you?”

“Yes, I saw every note that passed.”

“When the first of hers reached me (as it immediately did, for I was in town the whole time,)