let us have some supper here, by this fire--and I think Eleanor had
better have a cup of tea; as I cannot find out the wine that she
likes." And as Eleanor moved away, he added,--"And let me beg you not
to keep yourself from your rest any longer--I will take care of my
charge; at least I will try."

Devoutly hoping that he might succeed to his wishes, and not daring to
shew the anxiety he did not move to gratify, Mrs. Powle took the hint
of his gentle dismission; ordered the supper and withdrew. Meanwhile
Eleanor went to her room, relieved at the quiet entrance that had been
secured her, where she had looked for a storm; and a little puzzled
what to make of Mr. Carlisle. A little afraid too, if the truth must be
known; but she fell back upon Mr. Rhys's words of counsel--"Go no way,
till you see clearly; and then do what is right." She took off her
bonnet and smoothed her hair; and was about to go down, when she was
checked by the remembrance of Mr. Carlisle's words, "when you have
changed your dress." She told herself it was absurd; why should she
change her dress for that half hour that she would be up; why should
she mind that word of intimation; she called herself a fool for it;
nevertheless, while saying these things Eleanor did the very thing she
scouted at. She put off her riding dress, which the streets of Brompton
and the Chapel aisles had seen that day, and changed it for a light
grey drapery that fell about her in very graceful folds. She looked
very lovely when she reentered the drawing-room; the medium tint set
off her own rich colours, and the laces at throat and wrist were just
simple enough to aid the whole effect. Mr. Carlisle was a judge of
dress; he was standing before the fire and surveyed her as she came in;
and as Eleanor's foot faltered half way in the room, he came forward,
took both her hands and led her to the fire, where he set her in a
great chair by the supper-table; and then before he let her go, did
what he had not meant to do; gave a very frank kiss to the lips that
were so rich and pure and so near him. Eleanor's heart had sunk a
little at perceiving that her mother was not in the room; and this
action was far from reassuring. She would rather Mr. Carlisle had been
angry. He was far more difficult to meet in this mood.

Meanwhile Mr. Carlisle brought her chair into more convenient
neighbourhood to the table, and set a plate before her on which he went
on to place whatever he thought fit