"It is not by my wish, mamma."
"It is rather late to say so. Don't you like him, Eleanor?"
"Yes, ma'am—very much—if only he would be content with that."
"Answer me only one thing. Do you like any one else better? He is as jealous as a bear, and afraid you do."
"Mamma," said Eleanor, a burning colour again rising to her brow,—"you know yourself that I see no one that I favour more than I do Mr. Carlisle. I do not hold him just in the regard he wishes, nevertheless."
"But do you like any one else better? tell me that. I just want that question answered."
"Mamma, why? Answering it will not help the matter. In all England there is not a person out of my own family whom I like so well;—but that does not put Mr. Carlisle in the place where he wishes to be."
"I just wanted that question answered," said Mrs. Powle.