its being turned towards herself. And was it not, all the
while? Was not Eleanor tacitly, by little and little, yielding the
ground she fought so hard to keep? Was she not quietly giving her
affirmative to the world's question,--and to Mr. Carlisle's too? To the
former, yes; for the latter, she knew and Mr. Carlisle knew that she
shewed him no more than the regard that would not satisfy him. But
then, if this went on indefinitely, would not he, and the world, and
her mother, all say that she had given him a sort of prescriptive right
to her? Ay, and Eleanor must count her father too now as among her
adversaries' ranks. She saw it and felt it somewhat bitterly. She had
begun to gain his ear and his heart; by and by he might have listened
to her on what subject she pleased, and she might have won him to the
knowledge of the truth that she held dearest. Now, she had gained his
love certainly, in a measure, but so had Mr. Carlisle. Gently,
skilfully, almost unconsciously it seemed, he was as much domiciled in
her father's room as she was; and even more acceptable. The Squire had
come to depend on him, to look for him, to delight in him; and with
very evident admission that he was only anticipating by a little the
rights and privileges of sonship. Eleanor could not absent herself
neither; she tried that; her father would have her there; and there was
Mr. Carlisle, as much at home, and sharing with her in filial offices
as a matter of rule, and associating with her as already one of the
family. It is true, in his manner to Eleanor herself he did not so step
beyond bounds as to give her opportunity to check him; yet even over
this there stole insensibly a change; and Eleanor felt herself getting
deeper and deeper in the toils. Her own manner meanwhile was nearly
perfect in its simple dignity. Except in the interest of third party
measures, which led her sometimes further than she wanted to go,
Eleanor kept a very steady way, as graceful as it was steady. So
friendly and frank as to give no cause of umbrage; while it was so cool
and self-poised as to make Mr. Carlisle very uneasy and very desperate.
It was just the manner he admired in a woman; just what he would like
to see in his wife, towards all the rest of the world. Eleanor charmed
him more by her high-bred distance, than ever she had done by the
affection or submissiveness of former days. But he was pretty sure of
his game. Let this state of things go on long enough, and