erson, and unless
she is to interfere mischievously with the young lady's prospects, or
take more or less the part of the villain, how is she to be permitted
any importance at all? For there cannot be two suns in one sphere, or
two centres to one world. Thus the mother has to be sacrificed to the
daughter: which is a parable; or else it is the other way, which is
against all the principles and prepossessions of life.)

Elinor did not sit up like her mother. She had flung herself upon the
opposite sofa, with her arms flung behind her head, supporting it with
her fingers half buried in the twists of her hair. She was not tall
like Mrs. Dennistoun, and there was far more vivid colour than had ever
been the mother's in her brown eyes and bright complexion, which was
milk-white and rose-red after an old-fashioned rule of colour, too crude
perhaps for modern artistic taste. Sometimes these delightful tints go
with a placid soul which never varies, but in Elinor's case there was a
demon in the hazel of the eyes, not dark enough for placidity, all fire
at the best of times, and ready in a moment to burst into flame. She
it was who had to be in the forefront of the interest, and not her
mother, though for metaphysical, or what I suppose should now be
called psychological interests, the elder lady was probably the most
interesting of the two. Elinor beat her foot upon the carpet, out of
sheer impatience, while John lingered alone in the dining-room. What did
he stay there for? When there are several men together, and they drink
wine, the thing is comprehensible; but one man alone who takes his
claret with his dinner, and cares for nothing more, why should he stay
behind when there was so much to say to him, and not one minute too
much time till Monday morning, should the house be given up to talk not
only by day but by night? But it was no use beating one's foot, for John
did not come.

"You spoke to your cousin, Elinor, before dinner?" her mother said.

"Oh, yes, I spoke to him before dinner. What did he come here for but
that? I sent for him on purpose, you know, mamma, to hear what he would
say."

"And what did he say?"

This most natural question produced a small convulsion once more on
Elinor's side. She loosed the hands that had been supporting her head
and flung them out in front of her. "Oh, mamma, how can you be so
exasperating! What did he say? What was he likely to say? If the beggar
maid that married King Cophet