“Why did it go off?” insisted Lenore.
“Because Mrs. Poynsett could not give up and turn into a dowager, as if she were not the mistress herself.”
“Was that all?”
“So it was said.”
“I want to get to the bottom of it. It was not because Lord Tyrrell came in the way.”
“I am afraid they thought so here.”
“Then,” said Eleonora, in a hard, dry way, “I know the reason of our being brought back here, and of a good deal besides.”
“My dear Lena, I am very sorry for you; but I think you had better keep this out of your mind, or you will fall into a hard, bitter, suspicious mood.”
“That is the very thing. I am in a hard, bitter, suspicious mood, and I can’t see how to keep out of it; I don’t know when opposition is right and firm, and when it is only my own self-will.”
“Would it not be a good thing to talk to Julius Charnock? You would not be betraying anything.”