Never speak to me about Stephen Whitelaw again, father, unless you want to drive me mad.
Let me forget what sin I am going to commit, if I can; let me go on blindfold." It was to be observed that from the hour, of her betrothal.

Ellen Carley as far as possible avoided her father's companionship.

She worked more busily than ever about the big old house, was never tired of polishing the little-used furniture and dusting the tenantless bed-chambers; she seemed, indeed, to be infected with Mrs.Tadman's passion for superhuman cleanliness.

To her dairy duties also she devoted much more time than of old; anything to escape the parlour, where her father sat idle for a considerable portion of the day, smoking his pipe, and drinking rather more than was good for him.

Nor did Mr.Carley, for his part, appear to dislike this tacit severance between his daughter and himself.