"But you are very mysterious about all your acquaintances; for instance, you know how delighted I was with Alice Tracy."
I was obliged to summon up all my courage to pronounce her name; how often does one feel that there are subjects which become forbidden ones between people with whom in general there exists no reserve, and which, by some strange instinct, one cannot touch upon without emotion, though nothing reasonable can be alleged to account for it. He started, and his countenance instantaneously clouded over; but I went on with a kind of cowardly courage.
"And yet, I dare say, you have seen her, or heard something about her since our visit to Bridman Manor, and have never told me."
"I have not seen her."
"Where is she now?" I persisted, feeling that if I let the subject drop, it would require afresh effort to resume it again.
"I don't know."
"Is she likely to be staying at Salisbury?"
"At Salisbury?"
"Yes, there are some people of that name living there. I called at the house early this morning, and asked for Alice. She was out, but if I knew that she was staying on there, nothing would be easier than to go and pay her a visit one morning from hence, and I should like it of all things."
"Ellen," said Henry, "you cannot go on seeing Alice, or have anything to do with any of that family. You are quite a child, and childishly headstrong I well know, but I really must insist upon this."