Carlisle."
"Why not?"
"You know, mamma," Eleanor said calmly, though her heart beat; "you know what conclusions people draw about me and Mr. Carlisle. If I went to Hampton Court or to Richmond with him, I should give them, and him too, a right to those conclusions."
"What have you been doing for months past, Eleanor? I should like to know."
"Giving him no right to any conclusions whatever, mamma, that would be favourable to him. He knows that."
"He knows no such thing. You are a fool, Eleanor. Have you not said to all the world all this winter, by your actions, that you belonged to him? All the world knows it was an engagement, and you have been telling all the world that it is. Mr. Carlisle knows what to expect."
Eleanor coloured.
"I cannot fulfil his expectations, mamma. He has no right to them."
"I tell you, you have given him a right to them, by your behaviour these months past. Ever since we were at Brighton. Why how you encouraged him there!"
A great flush rose to Eleanor"s cheeks.
"Mamma,--no more than I encouraged others. Grace given to all is favour to none."
"Ay, but there was the particular favour in his case of a promise to marry him."
"Broken off, mamma."
"The world did not know that, and you did not tell them. You rode, you walked, you talked, you went hither and thither with Mr. Carlisle, and suffered him to attend you."
"Not alone, mamma; rarely alone."
"Often alone, child; often of evenings. You are alone with a gentleman in the street, if there is a crowd before and behind you."
"Mamma, all those things that I did, and that I was sorry to do, I could hardly get out of or get rid of; they were Mr. Carlisle"s doing and yours."
"Granted; and you made them yours by acceptance. Now Eleanor, you are a good girl; be a sensible girl. You have promised yourself to Mr.
Carlisle in the eye of all the world; now be honest, and don"t be shy, and fulfil your engagements."
"I have made none," said Eleanor getting up and beginning to walk backwards and forwards in the room. "Mr. Carlisle has been told distinctly that I do not love him. I will never marry any man whom I have not a right affection for."
"You did love him once, Eleanor."
"Never! not the least; not one bit of real--Mamma, I _liked_ him, and I do that now; and then I did not know any better; but I will never, for I ought never, to marry any man upon mere liking."
"How come you to know any better now?"
Eleanor"s blush was beautiful again for a minute; then it faded. She did not immediately speak.
"Is Mr. Carlisle right after all, and has he a rival?"
"Mamma, you must say what you please. Surely it does not follow that a woman must love all the world because she does not love one."
"And you may say what you please; I know you like Mr. Carlisle quite well enough, for you as good as told me so. This is only girl"s talk; but you have got to come to the point, Eleanor. I shall not suffer you to make a fool of him in my house; not to speak of making a fool of yourself and me, and ruining--forever ruining--all your prospects. You can"t do it, Eleanor. You have said yea, and you can"t draw back. Put on your green gown and go to Hampton Court, and come back with the day fixed--for that I know is what Mr. Carlisle wants."
"I cannot go, mamma."
"Eleanor, you would not forfeit your word?"
"I have not given it."
"Do not contradict me! You have given it all these months. Everybody has understood it so. Your father looks upon Mr. Carlisle as his son already. You would be everlastingly disgraced if you play false."
"I will play true, mamma. I will not say I give my heart where I do not give it."
"Give your hand then. All one," said Mrs. Powle laughing. "Come! I order you to obey me, Eleanor!"
"I must not, mamma. I will not go to Hampton Court with Mr. Carlisle."
"What is the reason?"
"I have told you."
"Do you mean, absolutely, that you will not fulfil your engagement, nor obey me, nor save us all from dishonour, nor make your friend happy?"
Eleanor grew paler than she had been, but answered, "I mean not to marry Mr. Carlisle, mamma."
"I understand it then," said Mrs. Powle rising. "It is not your heart but your head. It is your religious fanaticism I will put that out of the way!"
And without another word she departed.
Eleanor was much at a loss what would be the next move. Nevertheless she was greatly surprised when it came. The atmosphere of the house was heavy that day; they did not see Mr. Carlisle in the evening. The next day, when Eleanor went to her father"s room after dinner she found, not Mr. Carlisle, but her mother with him. "Waiting for me"--thought Eleanor. The air of Mrs. Powle said so. The squire was gathered up into a kind of hard knot, hanging his head over his knees. When he spoke, and was answered by his daughter, the contrast of the two voices was striking, and in character; one gruff, the other sweet but steady.
"What"s all this, Eleanor? what"s all this?" he said abruptly.
"What, papa?"
"Have you refused Mr. Carlisle?"
"Long ago, sir."
"Yes, that"s all past; and now this winter you have been accepting him again; are you going to throw him over now?"
"Papa--"
"Only one thing!" roared the Squire,--"are you going to say no to him?
tell me that."
"I must, papa."
"I command you to say yes to him! What do you say now?"