At one o'clock, Ellinor and Miss Monro dined. An hour was allowed for
Miss Monro's digestion, which Ellinor again spent out of doors, and at
three, lessons began again and lasted till five. At that time they went
to dress preparatory for the schoolroom tea at half-past five. After tea
Ellinor tried to prepare her lessons for the next day; but all the time
she was listening for her father's footstep--the moment she heard that,
she dashed down her book, and flew out of the room to welcome and kiss
him. Seven was his dinner-hour; he hardly ever dined alone; indeed, he
often dined from home four days out of seven, and when he had no
engagement to take him out he liked to have some one to keep him company:
Mr. Ness very often, Mr. Corbet along with him if he was in Hamley, a
stranger friend, or one of his clients. Sometimes, reluctantly, and when
he fancied he could not avoid the attention without giving offence, Mr.
Wilkins would ask Mr. Dunster, and then the two would always follow
Ellinor into the library at a very early hour, as if their subjects for
_tete-a-tete_ conversation were quite exhausted. With all his other
visitors, Mr. Wilkins sat long--yes, and yearly longer; with Mr. Ness,
because they became interested in each other's conversation; with some of
the others, because the wine was good, and the host hated to spare it.

Mr. Corbet used to leave his tutor and Mr. Wilkins and saunter into the
library. There sat Ellinor and Miss Monro, each busy with their
embroidery. He would bring a stool to Ellinor's side, question and tease
her, interest her, and they would become entirely absorbed in each other,
Miss Monro's sense of propriety being entirely set at rest by the
consideration that Mr. Wilkins must know what he was about in allowing a
young man to become thus intimate with his daughter, who, after all, was
but a child.

Mr. Corbet had lately fallen into the habit of walking up to Ford Bank