If she had, would she have cared? She had not yielded her
purpose.
CHAPTER XXI.
WAR CLOUDS.
"I hate November," cried Mrs. Eveleigh, coming into Elizabeth's room
and bringing a whiff of cold air with her. "It's a mean month," she
continued. "There's nothing but disagreeable things about it. The leaves
are all gone, and the snow hasn't come. You can't even go out riding
with any comfort, the ground is so frozen you are jolted to pieces." And
with step emphasizing the petulance of her voice, the speaker turned
from her companion and went to her own room, to put away her bonnet and
the heavy cloak that, if it had not been able to protect her from the
roughness of the roads, had kept the cold air from doing more than
biting revengefully at her nose and the tips of her fingers, in place of
all the mischief it would have been glad to inflict if it had had the
chance. The steps grown fainter, went about the next room, and Elizabeth
went on with her reading only half attentively, watching for the
inevitable coming back. "But then," resumed Mrs. Eveleigh, returning to
her subject as soon as she had opened the door wide enough to admit her
voice, "one must see a little of the world sometimes. I'm coming in to
warm my feet by your fire, shan't I? mine is low. I declare, it's hard
that Nancy should be so partial to you.
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