Eleanor coloured brightly and drew herself back. "That is the very thing," she said; "now you are coming to the point. I told you I had wishes with which yours would not agree, and it was better for you to know it before it was too late."
"Too late for what?"
"To remedy a great evil."
"There is generally a remedy for everything," said Mr. Carlisle coolly; "and this sort of imaginative fervour which is upon you is sure to find a cold bath of its own in good time. My purpose is simply in future, whenever you wish to hear another specimen of the kind of oratory we have listened to this evening, to be with you that I may protect you."
"Protect me from what?"
"From going too far, further than you know, in your present exaltée state. The Lady of Rythdale must not do anything unworthy of herself, or of me."
"What do you mean, Mr. Carlisle?" Eleanor exclaimed with burning cheeks. But he stood before her quite cool, his arms folded, looking down at her.
"Do you wish me to speak?"
"Certainly! I do."
"I will tell you then. It would not accord with my wishes to have my wife grant whispered consultations in public to any man; especially a young man and one of insinuating talents, which this one well may be. I could have shot that man, as he was talking to you to-night, Eleanor."