"He had not the helmet—" thought Eleanor. She got up to look at the stone; but it was worn away; no trace of the knight in armour who had lain there was any longer to be seen. What long ago times those were!
"And then the old monks did nothing else but pray," she remarked.
"A few other things," said her companion; "if report is true. But they said a great many prayers, it is certain. It was what they were specially put here for—to do masses for that old stone figure that used to lie there. They were paid well for doing it. I hope they did it."
The wind stirred gently through the ruin, bringing a sweet scent of herbs and flowers, and a fern or an ivy leaf here and there just moved lightly on its stalk.
"They must have lived a pleasant sort of life," said Eleanor musingly,—"in this beautiful place!"
"Are you thinking of entering a monastery?" said her companion smiling.
It brought back Eleanor's consciousness, which had been for a moment
forgotten, and the deep colour flashed to her face. She stood confused.
Mr. Carlisle did not let her go this time; he took both her hands.
"Do you think I am going to be satisfied with only negative answers from you?" said he changing his tone. "What have you got to say to me?"
Eleanor struggled with herself. "Nothing, Mr. Carlisle."
"Your mother has conveyed to you my wishes?"
"Yes," said Eleanor softly.