rely about religious
matters--that you would laugh at, but would not understand."

"Indulge me--and try me--" he said pressing his lips first on Eleanor's
cheek and then on her mouth. She answered in the same tone as before,
drooping in his arms as a weary child.

"He asked me--as I suppose he asked others--what the difficulties in my
mind were,--religious difficulties; and I told him my mind was in
confusion and I did not see clearly before me. He advised me to do
nothing in the dark, but when I saw duty clear, then to do it. That was
what passed."

"What did all these difficulties and rules of action refer to?"

"Everything, I suppose," said Eleanor drooping more and more inwardly.

"And you do not see, my love, what all this tended to?"

"I do not see what you mean."

"This is artful proselytism, Eleanor. In your brave honesty, in your
beautiful enthusiasm, you did not know that the purpose of all this has
been, to make a Methodist of Eleanor Powle, and as a necessary
preliminary or condition, to break off her promised marriage with me.
If that fellow had succeeded, he should have been made to feel my
indignation--as it is, I shall let him go."

"You are entirely mistaken,--" began Eleanor.

"Am I? Have you not been led to doubt whether you could live a right
life, and live it with me?"

"But would you be willing in everything to let me do as I think right?"

"Would I let you? You shall do what you will, my darling, except go to
whispering conventicles. Assuredly I will not let you do that. But when
you tell me seriously that you think a thing is wrong, I will never put
my will in the way of your conscience. Did you think me a Mahometan?
Hey?"

"No--but--"

"But what?"

Eleanor only sighed.

"I think I have something to forgive to-night, Eleanor,--but it is easy
to forgive you." And wrapping both arms round her now, he pressed on
brow and lip and cheek kisses that were abundantly reconciled.

"My presence just saved you to night. Eleanor--will you promise not to
be naughty any more?--Eleanor?--"

"I will try," burst out Eleanor,--"O I will try to do what is right! I
will try to do what is right!"

And in bitter uncertainty what that might be, she gave way under the
strain of so many feelings, and the sense of being conquered which
oppressed her, and burst into tears. Still held fast, the only
hiding-place for her eyes was Mr. Carlisle's breast, and they flowed
there bitterly though restrained