Elinor, made the least allusion to his passion. The passion, indeed, had
long ceased to exist; he sought her not for love, but for revenge.

Time glided on. Algernon had been three years away; but his letters
still continued to breathe the same ardent attachment, and Elinor was
happy in the consciousness of being the sole possessor of his heart.

Her mother, who had more ambitious views for her daughter, often
lamented her long engagement, which might never be completed. "She would
rather," she said, "have the rich Squire for her son-in-law; and she
would not be at all surprised if Elinor herself was to change her mind
before the ten years expired."

Six years of the allotted period had expired. Algernon had been promoted
to the rank of major; and his letters were full of happy anticipations.
Elinor herself began to look forward to their union as a thing likely to
take place; and she spoke of her lover's perseverance and constancy with
proud delight.

"He has done better than I expected of him," said the Squire. "There is
nothing like adversity for trying what a man's made of. But who can
wonder at his exerting himself to obtain such a reward?" And he bowed to
the blushing Elinor, as she sat with Algernon's letter in her hand,
radiant with joy.

"He talks of returning in less than two years: I wish it were now. I am
already three-and-twenty; by that time I shall begin to look old."

Mark thought that she never looked younger, or more beautiful, than at
that moment, and he told her so.