"You suppose what?" Will Belton asked.
"I did not think she would have gone to Aylmer Castle,—though I dare say it is the best thing she could do. She seemed to me to dislike the Aylmers,—that is, Lady Aylmer,—so much! But I suppose she is right?"
"She is right to go if she likes it."
"She is circumstanced so cruelly! Is she not? Where else could she go? I do so feel for her. I believe I need hardly tell you, Mr. Belton, that she would be as welcome here as flowers in May,—but that I do not dare to ask her to come to us." She said this in a low voice, turning her eyes away from him, looking first upon the ground, and then again up at the window,—but still not daring to meet his eye.
"I don't exactly know about that," said Belton awkwardly.
"You know, I hope, that I love her dearly."
"Everybody does that," said Will.
"You do, Mr. Belton."
"Yes;—I do; just as though she were—my sister."
"And as your sister would you let her come here,—to us?" He sat silent for awhile, thinking, and she waited patiently for his answer. But she spoke again before he answered her. "I am well aware that you know all my history, Mr. Belton."