"There is Adela; would not she come if you asked her?"
"Adela!" said the young vicar. And now his walk had brought him to the further end of the table; and there he remained for a minute or two. "Adela!"
"Yes, Adela," said Bertram.
"What a life my mother would lead her! She is fond of her now; very. But in that case I know that she would hate her."
"If I were you, I would make my wife the mistress of my house, not my mother."
"Ah! you do not understand, George."
"But perhaps you do not like Adela—perhaps you could not teach yourself to love her?"
"Perhaps not," said Wilkinson. "And perhaps she could not teach herself to like me. But, ah! that is out of the question."
"There is nothing between you and Adela then?" asked Bertram.
"Oh, no; nothing."