Julia again kissed and caressed her, not without some tears.
"I know," she said; "it is like Mr. Rhys, and it is like you; and I don"t believe it is like anybody else."
"Shall it be like you, Julia?"
"Yes, Eleanor, yes! I will never forget it. O Eleanor, are you sure you are not going to Rythdale?"
"What makes you ask me?"
"Why everybody thinks so, and everybody says so; and you--you are with Mr. Carlisle all the time, talking to him."
"I have so many thoughts to put into his head," said Eleanor gravely.
"What are you so busy with him about?"
"Parliament business. It is for the poor of London, Julia. Mr. Carlisle is preparing a bill to bring into the House of Commons, and I know more about the matter than he does; and so he comes to me."
"Don"t you think he is glad of his ignorance?" said Julia shrewdly.
Eleanor leaned her head on her hand and looked thoughtfully down.
"What do you give him thoughts about?"
"My poor boys would say, "lots of things." I have to convince Mr.
Carlisle that it would cost the country less to reform than to punish these poor children, and that reforming them is impossible unless we can give them enough to keep them from starvation; and that the common prison is no place for them; and then a great many questions besides these and that spring out of these have to be considered and talked over. And it is important beyond measure; and if I should let it alone,--the whole might fall to the ground. There are two objections now in Mr. Carlisle"s mind--or in other people"s minds--to one thing that ought to be done, and must be done; and I must shew Mr. Carlisle how false the objections are. I have begun; I must go through with it.
The whole might fall to the ground if I took away my hand; and it would be such an incalculable blessing to thousands and thousands in this dreadful place--"
"Do you think London is a dreadful place?" said Julia doubtfully.
"There are very few here who stand "like them that wait for their Lord,""--said Eleanor, her face taking a yearning look of thoughtfulness.
"There aren"t anywhere, _I_ don"t believe. Eleanor--aren"t you happy?"
"Yes!"
"You don"t always look--just--so."
"Perhaps not. But to live for Jesus makes happy days--be sure of that, Julia; however the face looks."
"Are you bothered about Mr. Carlisle?"
"What words you use!" said Eleanor smiling. ""Bother," and "scratchy."
No, I am not bothered about him--I am a little troubled sometimes."
"What"s the difference?"
"The difference between seeing one"s way clear, and not seeing it; and the difference between having a hand to take care of one, and not having it."
"Well why do you talk to him so much, if he troubles you?" said Julia, rea.s.sured by her sister"s smile.
"I must," said Eleanor. "I must see through this business of the bill--at all hazards. I cannot let that go. Mr. Carlisle knows I do not compromise myself."
"Well, I"ll tell you what," said Julia getting up to go,--"mamma means you shall go to Rythdale; and she thinks you are going."
With a very earnest kiss to Eleanor, repeated with an emphasis which set the seal upon all the advices and promises of the morning, Julia went off. Eleanor sat a little while thinking; not long; and met Mr.
Carlisle the next time he came, with precisely the same sweet self-possession, the unchanged calm cool distance, which drove that gentleman to the last verge of pa.s.sion and patience. But he was master of himself and bided his time, and talked over the bill as usual.
It was not Eleanor alone who had occasion for the exercise of admiration in these business consultations. Somewhat to his surprise, Mr. Carlisle found that his quondam fair mistress was good for much more than a plaything. With the quick wit of a woman she joined a patience of investigation, an independent strength of judgment, a clearness of rational vision, that fairly met him and obliged him to be the best man he could in the business. He could not get her into a sophistical maze; she found her way through immediately; he could not puzzle her, for what she did not understand one day she had studied out by the next. It is possible that Mr. Carlisle would not have fallen in love with this clear intelligence, if he had known it in the front of Eleanor"s qualities; for he was one of those men who do not care for an equal in a wife; but his case was by this time beyond cure. Nay, what might have alienated him once, bound him now; he found himself matched with Eleanor in a game of human life. The more she proved herself his equal, the n.o.bler the conquest, and the more the instinct of victory stirred within him; for pride, a poor sort of pride, began to be stirred as well as love.
So the bill went on; and prisons and laws and reformatory measures and penal enactments and industrial schools, and the question of interfering with the course of labour, and the question of offering a premium upon crime, and a host of questions, were discussed and rediscussed. And partly no doubt from policy, partly from an intelligent view of the subject, but wholly moved thereto by Eleanor, Mr. Carlisle gradually gave back the ground and took just the position (on paper) that she wished to see him take.
CHAPTER VII.
IN APRIL.
"Why, how one weeps When one"s too weary! Were a witness by, He"d say some folly--"
So the bill went on. And the season too. Winter merged into spring; the change of temperature reminded Eleanor of the changing face of the earth out of London; and even in London the parks gave testimony of it.
She longed for Wiglands and the Lodge; but there was no token of the family"s going home at present. Parliament was in session; Mr. Carlisle was busy there every night almost; which did not in the least hinder his being busied with Eleanor as well. Where she and her mother went, for the most part he went; and at home he was very much at home indeed.
Eleanor began to feel that the motions of the family depended on him; for she could find no sufficient explanation in her father"s health or her mother"s pleasure for their continued remaining in town. The Squire was much as he had been all winter; attended now and then by a physician, and out of health and spirits certainly; yet Eleanor could not help thinking he would be better at home, and somewhat suspected her father thought so. Mrs. Powle enjoyed London, no doubt; still, she was not a woman to run mad after pleasure, or after anything else; not so much but that the pleasure of her husband would have outweighed hers. Nevertheless, both the Squire and she were as quietly fixed in London, to judge by all appearance, as if they had no other place to go to; and the rising of parliament was sometimes hinted at as giving the only clue to the probable time of their departure.
Did you ever lay brands together on a hearth, brands with little life in them too, seemingly; when with no breath blown or stirring of air to fan them, gradually, by mere action and reaction upon each other, the cold grey ends began to sparkle and glow, till by and by the fire burst forth and flame sprang up? Circ.u.mstances may be laid together so, and with like effect.
Everything went on in a train at the house in Cadogan Square; n.o.body changed his att.i.tude or behaviour with respect to the others, except as by that most insensible, unnoticeable, quiet action of elements at work; yet the time came when Eleanor began to feel that things were drawing towards a crisis. Her place was becoming uncomfortable. She could not tell how, she did not know when it began, but a change in the home atmosphere became sensible to her. It was growing to be oppressive. Mother, father, and friends seemed by concert to say that she was Mr. Carlisle"s; and the gentleman himself began to look it, Eleanor thought, though he did not say it. A little tacit allowance of this mute language of a.s.signment, and either her truth would be forfeited or her freedom. She must make a decided protest. Yet also Eleanor felt that quality in the moral atmosphere which threatened that if any clouds came up they would be stormy clouds; and she dreaded to make any move. Julia"s society would have been a great solace now; when she never could have it. Julia comforted her, whenever they were together in company or met for a moment alone, by her energetic whisper--"I remember, Eleanor!--" but that was all. Eleanor could get no further speech of her. At the Ragged school Mr. Carlisle was pretty sure to be, and generally attended her home. Eleanor remonstrated with her mother, and got a sharp answer, that it was only thanks to Mr.
Carlisle she went there at all; if it were not for him Mrs. Powle certainly would put a stop to it. Eleanor pondered very earnestly the question of putting a stop to it herself; but it was at Mr. Carlisle"s own risk; the poor boys in the school wanted her ministrations; and the "bill" was in process of preparation. Eleanor"s heart was set on that bill, and her help she knew was greatly needed in its construction; she could not bear to give it up. So she let matters take their course; and talked reform diligently to Mr. Carlisle all the time they were driving from West-Smithfield home.
At last to Eleanor"s joy, the important paper was drawn up according to her mind. It satisfied her. And it was brought to a reading in the House and ordered to be printed. So much was gained. The very next day Mr. Carlisle came to ask Eleanor to drive out with him to Richmond, which she had never seen. Eleanor coolly declined. He pressed the charms of the place, and of the country at that season. Eleanor with the same coolness of manner replied that she hoped soon to enjoy the country at home; and that she could not go to Richmond. Mr. Carlisle withdrew his plea, sat and talked some time, making himself very agreeable, though Eleanor could not quite enjoy his agreeableness that morning; and went away. He had given no sign of understanding her or of being rebuffed; and she was not satisfied. The next morning early her mother came to her.
"Eleanor, what do you say to a visit to Hampton Court to-day?"
"Who is going, mamma?"
"Half the world, I suppose--there or somewhere else--such a day; but with you, your friend in parliament."
"I have several friends in parliament."
"Pshaw, Eleanor! you know I mean Mr. Carlisle. You had better dress immediately, for he will be here for you early. He wants to have the whole day. Put on that green silk which becomes you so well. How it does, I don"t know; for you are not blonde; but you look as handsome as a fairy queen in it. Come, Eleanor!"
"I do not care about going, mamma."
"Nonsense, child; you do care. You have no idea what Bushy Park is, Eleanor. It is not like Rythdale--though Rythdale will do in its way.
Come, child, get ready. You will enjoy it delightfully."
"I do not think I should, mamma. I do not think I ought to go with Mr.