“He maintains that she knows everything,” said the Rev. George, with a dispirited glance at Elinor. “I fear my visit has been worse than useless.”
“It is impossible that she should know. He lies,” said Mr. Lind. “Go and tell her the truth, George; and say that I desire her—I order her—to come back at once. Say that I am waiting here for her.”
“But, Uncle Reginald,” began Elinor, in a softer tone than before, whilst the clergyman stood in doubt—
“I think,” continued Mr. Lind, “that I must request you, Elinor, to occupy the rooms you have taken, until you return to your parents. I regret that you have forced me to take this step; but I cannot continue to offer you facilities for exercising your influence over my daughter. I will charge myself with all your expenses until you go to Wiltshire.”
Elinor looked at him as if she despaired of his reason. Then, seeing her cousin slowly going to the door, she said:
“You dont really mean to go on such a fool’s errand to Marian, George?”
“Elinor!” cried Mr. Lind.
“What else is it?” said Elinor. “You asserted all your authority yourself this morning, and only made matters worse. Yet you expect her to obey you at second hand. Besides, she is bound in honor not to desert me now; and I will tell her so, too, if I see any sign of her letting herself be bullied.”
“I fear Marian will not pay much heed to what I say to her,” said the clergyman.
“If you are coming,” said Elinor, “you had better come in my cab. Good-night, Uncle Reginald.”