m of
this. However that were, her thoughts went off in a perverse train upon
the former baronesses of Rythdale; the ladies lovely and stately who
had inhabited this noble abode. Eleanor would soon be one of the line,
moving in their place, where they had moved; lovely and admired in her
turn; but their turn was over. What when hers should be?--could she
keep this heritage for ever? It was a very impertinent thought; it had
clearly no business with either place or time; but there it was,
staring at Eleanor out of the rich cornices, and looking in at her from
the magnificent plantations seen through the window. Eleanor did not
welcome the thought; it was an intruder. The fact was that having once
made entrance in her mind, the idea only seized opportunities to start
up and assert its claims to notice. It was always lying in wait for her
now; and on this occasion held its ground with great perverseness.
Eleanor glanced again at Dr. Cairnes; no hope of him at present; he was
busily engaged with a clever gentleman, a friend of Mr. Carlisle's and
an Oxford man, and with Mr. Carlisle himself. Eleanor grew impatient of
her thoughts; she wondered if anybody else had such, in all that
company. Nobody seemed to notice her; and she meditated an escape both
from her sofa corner and from herself to a portfolio near by, which
promised a resource in the shape of engravings; but just as she was
moving, Lady Rythdale laid a hand upon her lap.

"Sit still, my dear," she said turning partly towards her,--"I want you
by me. I have a skein of silk here I want wound for my work--a skein of
green silk--here it is; it has tangled itself, I fear; will you prepare
it for me?"

Eleanor took the silk, which was in pretty thorough confusion, and
began the task of unravelling and untieing, preparatory to its being
wound. This time Lady Rythdale did not turn away; she sat considering
Eleanor, on whose white drapery and white fingers the green silk
threads made a pretty contrast, while they left her helplessly exposed
to that examining gaze. Eleanor felt it going all over her; taking in
all the details of her dress, figure and face. She could not help the
blood mounting, though she angrily tried to prevent it. The green silk
was in a great snarl. Eleanor bent her head over her task.

"My dear, are you near-sighted?"

"No, madam!" said the girl, giving the old lady a moment's view of the
orbs in question.

"You have very good eyes--uncommon colour