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Updated: May 11, 2025
Oliver was just starting downstairs after changing his shoes, cursing house-party manners in general and Juliet Bellamy in particular all over his mind when Elinor's voice came up to him from below. "No, really, Petey. No, I know it's rude of me but honestly I am tired and if I'm going to feel like anything but limp tulle this evening.
Lucy's marriage, the unceasing and reasonable wonder among them all, formed of course one of the earliest discussions of the lovers; and Elinor's particular knowledge of each party made it appear to her in every view, as one of the most extraordinary and unaccountable circumstances she had ever heard.
He thought Elinor's manner charming, and soon discovered that she had every recommendation but beauty, the want of which was her only drawback; he liked her family, and probably was not sorry to hear that she would have a large property. But, unfortunately, he seldom met Miss Elinor Wyllys; she was a great part of her time in the country, and he knew nobody in the immediate neighbourhood.
Their new acquaintance of the corridor stopped at their table as she, too, made her way out. "I am going into the portrait class when I go up," she said, her dark-fringed eyes smiling frankly down on Elinor. "They tell me you are going to take your first plunge this afternoon. I'll be glad to show you about if you need any chaperoning." Elinor's eyes met hers gratefully.
They drove on steadily and slowly, the silence only interrupted by occasional remarks of Elinor's companions, as they offered her some assistance. When they came in sight of the Hubbard cottage, Mary Van Alstyne's heart sunk anew, as she remembered the blow which had also fallen upon their good neighbours.
The darling is exhausted." Warren looked grave. "She has had the worst experience of all," he said. "We won't know for a good while just what she has undergone. I would not want to question her. It will have to come out in bits. And I think the baby will be a good thing after all. It will help occupy Elinor's attention and make her forget.
Judith, with her cheeks flushing and paling and her composed tones carrying conviction, laid the story of her discoveries before them, telling them how she had thought of it first "for fun, like a plot for a story," and then how she had remembered that Doris Leighton had Elinor's keys with access to the locker where the two studies for the prize designs were left that night that Elinor was taken ill; how she had discovered through Doris' younger sister that Doris had made her study for the Roberts prize from a little rough color sketch "just like Elinor had."
Though unskilled in the art, he even began a sketch, in which the action of the two figures was to correspond with their mutual expression. It was whispered among friends, that, day by day, Elinor's face was assuming a deeper shade of pensiveness, which threatened soon to render her too true a counterpart of her melancholy picture.
It was rarely that one heard anything approaching to really good amateur music, in this country, fifteen years ago, at the date of Elinor's seventeenth birthday. A light supper, and a Virginia reel, concluded the evening; when the party broke up. "I hope you are jealous, Elinor," said Harry Hazlehurst, as he returned into the house, after having attended Miss Adeline Taylor to the carriage.
Nor could she leave the place in which Willoughby remained, busy in new engagements, and new schemes, in which she could have no share, without shedding many tears. Elinor's satisfaction, at the moment of removal, was more positive.
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