"What! carry this all the way from here to Brudenell, after bringing it
from the bay? Whatever are you thinking of, Hannah?" laughed the young
man, as he stepped outside for a moment and hung the fish on a nail in
the wall. "There it is, Hannah," he said, returning and taking his seat
at the fire; "you can use it or throw it away, as you like."

Hannah made no reply to this; she did not wish to encourage him either
to talk or to prolong his stay. Her very expression of countenance was
cold and repellent almost to rudeness. Nora saw this and sympathized
with him, and blamed her sister.

"To think," she said to herself, "that he was so good to us when we went
to see him; and Hannah is so rude to him, now he has come to see us! It
is a shame! And see how well he bears it all, too, sitting there warming
his poor white hands."

In fact, the good humor of the young man was imperturbable. He sat
there, as Nora observed, smiling and spreading his hands out over the
genial blaze and seeking to talk amicably with Hannah, and feeling
compensated for all the rebuffs he received from the elder sister
whenever he encountered a compassionate glance from the younger,
although at the meeting of their eyes her glance was instantly withdrawn
and succeeded by fiery blushes. He stayed as long as he had the least
excuse for doing so, and then arose to take his leave, half smiling at
Hannah's inhospitable surliness and his own perseverance under
difficulties. He went up to Nora to bid her good-by. He took her hand,
and as he gently pressed it he looked into her eyes; but hers fell
beneath his gaze; and with a simple "Good-day, Nora," he turned away.