He went off to see to the putting up of his horse
himself, telling his daughter to wait till he came back, he had something
particular to say to her before she went to bed.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
"WHAT MUST BE SHALL BE."
Ellen Carley waited in the little parlour, dimly lighted by one candle.
The fire had very nearly gone out, and she had some difficulty in
brightening it a little. She waited very patiently, wondering what her
father could have to say to her, and not anticipating much pleasure from
the interview. He was going to talk about Stephen Whitelaw and his
hateful money perhaps. But let him say what he would, she was prepared to
hold her own firmly, determined to provoke him by no open opposition,
unless matters came to an extremity, and then to let him see at once and
for ever that her resolution was fixed, and that it was useless to
persecute her.
"If I have to go out of this house to-night, I will not flinch," she said
to herself.
She had some time to wait. It had been past midnight when they came home,
and it was a quarter to one when William Carley came into the parlour. He
was in a unusually communicative mood to-night, and had been
superintending the grooming of his horse, and talking to the underling
who had waited up to receive him.
He was a little unsteady in his gait as he came into the parlour, and
Ellen knew that he had drunk a good deal at Wyncomb.
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