in my study--which was never so honoured before; but I think it is the
pleasantest place in the house. The other rooms my sister fills with
gimcracks, till I cannot turn round there without fear of breaking
something, Now my old folios and octavos have tried a fall many a
time--and many a one has tried a fall with them--ha! ha!--and no harm
to anybody. Sit down there now, Miss Eleanor, and rest. That's what I
call a pretty window. You see I am in no danger of forgetting my friend
Mr. Carlisle here."

Eleanor looked out of the window very steadily; yet she was not
refreshing her remembrance of Mr. Carlisle neither. There were glimpses
of a tall, alert figure, passing leisurely in and out among the trees
and the ruins; finally coming out into full view and walking with brisk
step over the greensward till he was out of sight. Eleanor knew it very
well, the figure and the quick step; the energy and life in every
movement. She heard no more of Dr. Cairnes for some time; though
doubtless he was talking, for he had ordered luncheon and now it was
served, and he was pressing her to partake of it. Dr. Cairnes' cheese
was excellent; his hung beef was of prime quality; and the ale was of a
superior brand, and the wine which he poured out for Eleanor was, he
assured her, as its sparkling drops fell into the glass, of a purity
and flavour "that even his friend Mr. Carlisle would not refuse to
close his lips upon." Eleanor felt faint and weary, and she knew Mr.
Carlisle's critical accuracy; but she recollected at the same time Mr.
Rhys's cool abstinence, and she put the glass of wine away.

"_Not?_" said the doctor. "You would prefer a cup of chocolate. Bad
taste, Miss Eleanor--wine is better for you, too. Ladies will sup
chocolate, I believe; I wonder what they find in it. The thing is, my
sister being away to-day, I don't know--"

Eleanor begged he would not mind that, nor her; however the chocolate
was ordered and in due time brought.

"Now that will make you dull," said the doctor,--"sleepy. It does not
have, even on you, the reviving, brilliant effect of _this_ beverage."
And he put the bright glass of wine to his lips. It was not the first
filled.

"Before I get dull, dear doctor, I want to talk to you."

"Aye?" said the doctor, looking at her over the wine. "You do? What
about? Say on, Miss Eleanor. I am yours doubly now, by the past and the
future. You may command me."

"It is about the present, I wish to talk," sai