the young widow, and the young widow's money, and the
money of the widow's child, without remorse. With her pretended
friendship and warm cordiality, she strove to connect Eleanor so
closely with her brother as to make it impossible that she should
go back even if she wished it. But Charlotte Stanhope knew really
nothing of Eleanor's character, did not even understand that there
were such characters. She did not comprehend that a young and pretty
woman could be playful and familiar with a man such as Bertie
Stanhope and yet have no idea in her head, no feeling in her heart,
that she would have been ashamed to own to all the world. Charlotte
Stanhope did not in the least conceive that her new friend was a
woman whom nothing could entrap into an inconsiderate marriage, whose
mind would have revolted from the slightest impropriety had she been
aware that any impropriety existed.

Miss Stanhope, however, had tact enough to make herself and her
father's house very agreeable to Mrs. Bold. There was with them all
an absence of stiffness and formality which was peculiarly agreeable
to Eleanor after the great dose of clerical arrogance which she had
lately been constrained to take. She played chess with them, walked
with them, and drank tea with them; studied or pretended to study
astronomy; assisted them in writing stories in rhyme, in turning
prose tragedy into comic verse, or comic stories into would-be tragic
poetry. She had no idea before that she had any such talents. She
had not conceived the possibility of her doing such things as she
now did. She found with the Stanhopes new amusements and employments,
new pursuits, which in themselves could not be wrong, and which were
exceedingly alluring.

Is it not a pity that people who are bright and clever should so
often be exceedingly improper, and that those who are never improper
should so often be dull and heavy? Now Charlotte Stanhope was always
bright and never heavy, but then her propriety was doubtful.

But during all this time Eleanor by no means forgot Mr. Arabin, nor
did she forget Mr. Slope. She had parted from Mr. Arabin in her
anger. She was still angry at what she regarded as his impertinent
interference, but nevertheless she looked forward to meeting him
again, and also looked forward to forgiving him. The words that Mr.
Arabin had uttered still sounded in her ears. She knew that if not
intended for a declaration of love, they did signify that he loved
her,