Eleanor felt nearly wild under her father's speeches; nevertheless she sat perfectly quiet, only fiery about her cheeks.
"Then, papa, to come to the point, don't you think in the little time that remains to me for my own, I might be allowed to do what I please with myself?"
"I should say it was a plain case," said the Squire. "Take your pleasure, Nellie; I won't tether you. What do you want to do, child? I take it, you belong to me till you belong to somebody else."
"Papa, I want to run away, and make a visit to my aunt Caxton. I shall never have another chance in the world—and I want to go off and be by myself and feel free once more, and have a good time."
"Poor little duck!" said her father. "You are a sensible girl, Nellie.
Go off; nobody shall hinder you."
"Papa, unless you back me, mamma and Mr. Carlisle will not hear of it."
"I'd go before he comes down then," said the Squire, knocking the ashes out of his pipe energetically. "St. George! I believe that man half thinks, sometimes, that I am one of his tenantry? The lords of Rythdale always did lord it over everything that came in their way. Now is your only chance, Eleanor; run away, if you're a mind to; Mr. Carlisle is master in his own house, no doubt, but he is not master in mine; and I say, you may go. Do him no harm to be kept on short commons for a little while."
With a joyful heart Eleanor went back to the drawing-room, and sat patiently still at some fancy work till Mrs. Powle waked up from a nap.
"Mamma, Dr. Cairnes wants me to be confirmed."
"Confirmed!"—Mrs. Powle echoed the word, sitting bolt upright in her chair and opening her sleepy eyes wide at her daughter.