"My child," she said, "your honesty has saved you. I could not have advised you, Eleanor, if you had not been frank with me. Poor child!"
Eleanor came down on the floor and hid her face in Mrs. Caxton's lap. Her aunt kept one hand softly resting on her hair while she spoke. She was silent first, and then she spoke very tenderly.
"You did not know, at the time you engaged yourself to this gentleman, that you were doing him wrong?"
"No, ma'am—I thought rather of wrong to myself."
"Why?"
"They were in such a hurry, ma'am."
"Since then, you have seen what you like better."
"Yes, ma'am,"—said Eleanor doubtfully,—"or what I know I could like better, if there was occasion. That is all."
"Now the question is, in these circumstances, what is your duty to Mr.
Carlisle."
Eleanor lifted her head to look into her aunt's face for the decision to come.