“I understand, I understand, my dear,” broke in Lady Susan. “You shall not be teased. Do not the girls and I care for you for your own sake?”
“I hope so.”
The elder lady sprang up and embraced her. Affection was very pleasant to the reserved nature that could do so little to evoke caresses. Yet Eleonora clasped her Rockpier charm in her hand, and added, “I must tell you that so far as I can without disobedience, I hold myself engaged to Frank Charnock.”
“To Frank Charnock?” repeated Lady Susan, startled at this positive statement. “My dear, are you quite sure of his ways?—since he has been in town I mean.”
“I know him, and I trust him.”
“I’m sure he is a fine-looking young man, and very clever, they say; dear Julia Poynsett’s son too, and they have all turned out so well,” said honest Lady Susan; “but though you have been used to it all your life, my dear, a taste for horses is very dangerous in a young man who can’t afford to lose now and then, you know.”
“I have seriously made up my mind never to marry a man who has anything to do with the turf,” said Eleonora.
“Ah, my poor dear, I can understand that,” said Lady Susan, aware how ill this told for her Lory. “May I ask, does he know it?”
“It would insult him to say it. None of the Charnocks ever meddle with those things. Ah! I know your son saw him on the Derby-day; but he went down with his eldest brother and his wife—and that is a very different thing! I stayed at home, you remember—papa had a fit of the gout.”
“My dear, I don’t want to accuse him. Don’t bristle up; only I am sorry, both for my own little plan of having you for my very own, and because I fear there is trouble in store for you. It can’t be palatable.” Here Eleonora shook her head, and her worn, wearied look went to the good-natured heart. “Dear child, you have gone through a great deal. You shan’t be worried or fretted about anybody or anything at Revelrig.”