pronounced him. They were on good
terms, even of affection; for only love begets love. The lesson went
on, but the gentleman stood in a maze till it was finished. The notes
of Eleanor's voice in the closing hymn, which he was sure he could
distinguish, brought him quite back to himself. Now he might speak to
her again. He had felt as if there were a barrier between them. Now he
would test it.

He had to wait yet a little while, for Eleanor was talking to one or
two elderly gentlemen. Nobody to move his jealousy however; so Mr.
Carlisle bore the delay with what patience he could; which in that
stifling atmosphere was not much. How could Eleanor endure it? As at
last she came down the room, he met her and offered his arm. Eleanor
took it, and they went out together.

"I did not know you were in the school," she said.

"I would not disturb you. Thomas is not here--Mrs. Powle wanted him at
home."

Which was Mr. Carlisle's apology for taking his place. Or somewhat more
than Thomas's place; for he not only put Eleanor in a carriage, but
took a seat beside her. The drive began with a few moments of silence.

"How do you do?" was his first question.

"Very well."

"Must I take it on trust? or do you not mean I shall see for myself?"
said he. For there had been a hidden music in Eleanor's voice, and she
had not turned her face from the window of the carriage. At this
request however she gave him a view of it. The hidden sweetness was
there too; he could not conceive what made her look so happy. Yet the
look was at once too frank and too deep for his personal vanity to get
any food from it; no surface work, but a lovely light on brow and lip
that came from within. It had nothing to do with him. It was something
though, that she was not displeased at his being there; his own face
lightened.

"What effect does Field-Lane generally have upon you?" said he.

"It tires me a little--generally. Not to-day."

"No, I see it has not; and how you come out of that den, looking as you
do, I confess is an incomprehensible thing to me. What has pleased you
there?"

A smile came upon Eleanor's face, so bright as shewed it was but the
outbreaking of the light he had seen there before. His question she met
with another.

"Did nothing there please you?"

"Do you mean to evade my inquiry?"

"I will tell you what pleased me," said Eleanor. "Perhaps you
remarked--whereabouts were you?"

"A few feet behind you and your scholars."