She nearly fainted at
church, and I had to take her out."
Frank's face worked, and he put his hand over it as he said, "You
are all torturing her; I shall write a letter and settle it myself."
Frank did write the letter that very night, and when Julius next saw
Eleonora her eyes were swollen with weeping, and she said--
"Take me to him! I must comfort him!"
"You have heard from him?"
"Yes. Such a beautiful letter. But he must not think it _that_."
She did show the letter, reserved though she was. She was right
about it; Julius was struck with the humble sweetness, which made
him think more highly of poor Frank than ever he had done before.
He had decided against himself, feeling how much his fall at the
race-ground had been the effect of the manner in which he had
allowed himself to be led during the previous season in London, and
owning how far his whole aim in life fell short of what it ought to
be, asking nothing for himself, not even hope nor patience, though
he could not refrain from expressing his own undying love, and his
one desire that if she had not attached herself to one more worthy,
he might in time be thought to have proved his repentance.
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