"What should a woman do—what is it her duty to do—who finds herself in every way bound to fulfil such engagements, except—"
"Except what?"
"Except her own heart, ma'am," Eleanor said low and ashamed.
"My dear, you do not mean that your heart was not in these engagements when you made them?"
"I did not know where it was, aunty. It had nothing to do with them."
"Where is it now?"
"It is not in them, ma'am."
"Eleanor, let us speak plainly. Do you mean that you do not love this gentleman whom you have promised to marry?"
Eleanor hesitated, covered her face, and hesitated; at last spoke.
"Aunt Caxton, I thought I did;—but I know now I do not; not as I think I ought;—I do not as he loves me." Eleanor spoke with burning cheeks, which her aunt could see even in the firelight and though Eleanor's hand endeavoured to shield them.