"You can not take her word," said Mr. Carlisle, preparing to mount Eleanor. "She goes by an old-fashioned thing, that is always behind the time—or in advance of it."
"Well, I declare!" said Miss Broadus. "That beautiful little watch Mr.
Powle gave her! Then you will come in after your ride?"
If they were near enough at luncheon time, Mr. Carlisle promised that should be done; and leaving Miss Broadus in startled admiration of their horses, the riders set forth. A new ride was promised Eleanor; they struck forward beyond Wiglands, leaving the road to Rythdale on the left hand. Eleanor was busily meditating on the question of making suit to Mr. Carlisle in James Earle's favour; but not as a question to be decided; she had resolved she would not do it, and was thinking rather how very unwilling she should be to do it; sensible at the same time that much power was in her hands to do good and give relief, of many kinds; but fixed in the mind that so long as she had not the absolute right and duty of Mr. Carlisle's wife, she would not assume it. Yet between pride and benevolence Eleanor's ride was likely to be scarce a pleasant one. It was extremely silent, for which Tippoo's behaviour on this occasion gave no excuse. He was as gentle as the day.
"What did you find in that cottage to give your thoughts so profound a turn?" said Mr. Carlisle at last.
"A sick girl."
"Cottages do not seem to agree with you, Eleanor."
"That would be unfortunate," said Eleanor rousing up, "for the people in them seem to want me very much."
"Do not let that impose on you," said Mr. Carlisle smiling. "Speaking of cottages—two of my cottages at Rythmoor are empty still."
"O are they!—" Eleanor exclaimed with sudden life.
"What then?"