as much as possible. He hardly wished
to restrain them; he would have been willing to stand all night with
that soft brown head resting like a child's on him. Nevertheless he
called her to order with words and kisses.

"Do you know, it is late," he said,--"and you are tired. I must send
you off. Eleanor! look up. Look up and kiss me."

Eleanor overcame the passion of tears as soon as possible, yet not till
a few minutes had passed; and looked up; at least raised her head from
its resting-place. Mr. Carlisle whispered, "Kiss me!"

How could Eleanor refuse? what could she do? though it was sealing
allegiance over again. She was utterly humbled and conquered. But there
was a touch of pride to be satisfied first. Laying one hand on Mr.
Carlisle's shoulder, so as to push herself a little back where she
could look him in the face, with eyes glittering yet, she confronted
him; and asked, "Do you doubt me now?"

Holding her in both arms, at just that distance, he looked down at her,
a smile as calm as brilliant playing all over his face, which spoke
perfect content as well as secure possession. But the trust in his eyes
was as clear.

"No more than I doubt myself," he answered.

Pride was laid asleep; and yielding to what seemed her fate, Eleanor
gave the required token of fealty--or subjugation--for so it seemed to
her. Standing quite still, with bent head and moveless attitude, the
slightest smile in the world upon the lips, Mr. Carlisle's whole air
said silently that it was not enough. Eleanor yielded again, and once
more touched her lips to those of her master. He let her go then; lit
her candle and attended her to the foot of the staircase and dismissed
her with all care.

"I wonder if he is going to stay here himself to-night, and meet me in
the morning," thought Eleanor as she went up the stairs. "It does not
matter--I will go to sleep and forget everything, for a while."

Would she? There was no sleep for Eleanor that night, and she knew it
as soon as she reached her room. She set down her candle and then
herself in blank despair.

What had she done? Nothing at all, The stand she had meant to take at
the beginning of the evening, she had been unable even to set foot
upon. The bold step by which she had thought to set herself free from
Mr. Carlisle, had only laid her more completely at his feet. Eleanor
got up and walked the room in agony.

What had she done? She was this man's promised wife; she had made her