"What is it, ma'am?"
"To find out what particular kind of jewels you prefer. I really don't know, so am obliged to ask you—which was not in my commission."
"Jewels, mamma!"
"Jewels, my lady."
"O mamma! don't talk to me of jewels!"
"Nor of weddings, I suppose; but really I do not see how things are to be done unless they are to be talked about. For instance, this matter of your liking in jewellery—I think rubies become you, Eleanor; though to be sure there is nothing I like so well as diamonds. What is the matter?"
For Eleanor's brown head had gone down on the table before her and her face was hidden in her hands. She slowly raised it at her mother's question.
"Mamma, Mr. Carlisle does not know what he is doing!"
"Pray what do you mean?"
"He thinks he is marrying a person who will be gay and live for and in the world, as he lives—and as he would wish me. Mamma, I will not! I never will. I never shall be what he likes in that respect. I mean to live a religious life."