"Why are you not?" said Eleanor opening her eyes at him.
"In those days I was your pastor and friend simply. The difference is, that I have acquired the right to love you—take care of you—and scold you."
"It seems to me that last was a privilege you exercised occasionally in those times," said Eleanor archly.
"Not at all! In those days I was a poor fellow that did not dare say a word to you."
Eleanor's recollections were of sundry exceptions to this rule, so marked and prominent in her memory that she could not help laughing.
"O Mr. Rhys, don't you remember—"
"What?" said he with the utmost gravity.
But Eleanor had stopped, and coloured now brilliantly.
"It seems that your recollections are of a questionable character," he said. Eleanor did not deny it.
"What is it you wish me not to remember?"