"That is frank; yet I am half afraid to present the one which is on my lips."
"Perhaps it is not worth while," said Eleanor, with a gleam of a smile which was very alluring. "You are going to tell me, possibly, that I am a good walker."
"I do not know why I should let you silence me. No, I was not going to tell you that you are a good walker; you know it already. The compliment of beauty, that you scorned, was also perhaps no news to you. What I admire in you now, is something you do not know you have—and I do not mean you shall, by my means."
Eleanor's glance of amused curiosity, rewarded him.
"Are you expecting now, that I shall ask for it?"
"No; it would not be like you. You do not ask me for anything—that you can help, Eleanor. I shall have to make myself cunning in inventing situations of need that will drive you to it. It is pleasanter to me than you can imagine, to have your eyes seek mine with a request in them."
Eleanor coloured.
"There are the fieldfares!" she exclaimed presently.
"What is there melancholy in that?" said Mr. Carlisle laughingly.
"Nothing. Why?"