, Macintosh. No one has a right
to take it from me. You may have the power; and I ask you not to use
it."

"Eleanor, you break my heart. My love, do you know that I have business
calling for me in London?--it is calling for me now, urgently. I must
carry you up to London at once; and this week that you plead for, I do
not know how to give. If I can go the fifteenth instead of the
twenty-second, I must. Do you see, Nellie?" he asked very tenderly.

Eleanor hardly saw anything; the world and all in it seemed to be in a
swimming state before her eyes. Only Mr. Carlisle's "can's" and
"must's" obeyed him, she felt sure, as well as everything else. She
felt stunned. Holding her on one arm, Mr. Carlisle began to pluck
flowers and myrtle sprays and to adorn her hair with them. It was a
labour of love; he liked the business and played with it. The beautiful
brown masses of hair invited and rewarded attention.

"Then my mother has spoken to you?" she said at length.

"Yes,"--he said, arranging a spray of heath with white blossoms. "Do
you blame me?" Eleanor sought to withdraw herself from his arm, but he
detained her.

"Where are you going?"

"Up stairs--to my room."

"Do you forgive me, Eleanor?" he said, looking down at her.

"No,--I think I do not."

He laughed a little, kissing her downcast face.

"I will make you my wife, Monday, Eleanor; and after that I will make
you forgive me; and then--my wife shall ask me nothing that she shall
not have."

Keeping her on his arm, he led her slowly from the conservatory,
through the rooms, and up the staircase, to the door of her own
apartment.

Eleanor tore out the flowers as soon as she was alone, locked her door,
meaning at least not to see her mother that night; took off her dress
and lay down. Refuge failed her. She was in despair. What could she
arrange between Tuesday night and Monday?--short of taking poison, or
absconding privately from the house, and so disgracing both herself and
her family. Yet Eleanor was in such desperation of feeling that both
those expedients occurred to her in the course of the night, although
only to be rejected. Worn-out nature must have some rest however; and
towards morning she slept.

It was late when she opened her eyes. They fell first upon Julia,
standing at her bedside.

"Are you awake, Eleanor?"

"Yes. I wish I could sleep on."

"There's news."

"News! What sort of news?" said Eleanor, feeling that none concerned
her.