mamma – "
"Well? Put your hair lower, Eleanor; that will not do."
"Mamma, isn't Mr. Carlisle there?"
"Mr. Carlisle? What if he is? I hope he is. You are well in that hat,
Eleanor."
"Mamma, if Mr. Carlisle is there, – "
"Hold your tongue, Eleanor! – take your whip and go. They are all waiting. You may talk to me when you come back, but now you must go. I should think Mr. Carlisle would like to be of the party, for there isn't such another figure on the ride. Now kiss me and go. You are a good girl."
Mrs. Powle said it with some feeling. She had never found Eleanor so obediently tractable as since her return; she had never got from her such ready and willing cooperation, even in matters that her mother knew were not after Eleanor's heart, as now when her heart was less in them than ever. And at this moment she was gratified by the quiet grave obedience rendered her, in doing what she saw plainly enough Eleanor did not like to do. She followed her daughter down stairs with a proud heart.
It happened again, as it was always happening, that Mr. Carlisle was Eleanor's special attendant. Eleanor meditated possible ways of hindering this in future; but for the present there was no remedy. Mr. Carlisle put her on her horse; it was not till she was taking the reins in her left hand that something struck her with a sense of familiarity.
"What horse is this?" she asked.
"No other than your old friend and servant – I hope you have not forgotten her. She has not forgotten you."
Eleanor perceived that. As surely as it was Black Maggie, Maggie knew her; and displeased though Eleanor was with the master, she could not forbear a little caress of recognition to the beautiful creature he had once given her. Maggie was faultless; she and Eleanor were accustomed to each other; it was an undeniable pleasure to be so mounted again, as Eleanor could not but acknowledge to herself during the first few dainty dancing steps that Maggie made with her wonted burden. Nevertheless it was a great deal too much like old times that were destroyed; and glancing at Mr. Carlisle Eleanor saw that he was on Tippoo, and furthermore that there was a sparkle in his eye which meant hope, or triumph. Something put Eleanor on her mettle; she rode well that day. She rode with a careless grace and ease that even drew a compliment from Mr. Carlisle; but beyond that, his companion at first gave him little satisfaction. She was grave and cold to all his conversational efforts. However, there she was on his black mare; and Mr. Carlisle probably found an antidote to whatever discouragement she threw in his way. Chance threw something else in his way.
They had turned into one of the less frequented streets of the town, in their way to get out of it, when Eleanor's eye was seized by a figure on the sidewalk. It startled her inexpressibly; and before she could be sure her eyes did not deceive her the figure had almost passed, or they had almost passed the person. But in passing he had raised his bat; she knew then he had recognized her, as she had known him; and he had recognized her in such company. And he was in Brighton. Without a moment for thought or delay, Eleanor wheeled her horse's head sharply round and in one or two smart steps brought herself alongside of Mr. Rhys. He stopped, came up to her stirrup and shook hands. He looked grave, Eleanor thought. She hastened to speak.
"I could not pass you, Mr. Rhys. I had to leave Plassy without bidding you good bye."
"I am glad to meet you now," he said, – "before I go."
"Do you leave Brighton very soon?"
"To-morrow. I go up to London, and in a few days I expect to sail from there."
"For – ?"
"Yes, – for my post in the Southern Ocean. I have an unexpected opportunity."
Eleanor was silent. She could not find anything to say. She knew also that Mr. Carlisle had wheeled his horse after her, and that Tippoo was taking steps somewhere in her close neighbourhood. But she sat motionless, unable to move as well as to speak.
"I must not detain you," said Mr. Rhys. "Do you find it as easy to live well at Brighton as at Plassy?"
Eleanor answered a low and grave "no;" bending down over her saddlebow.
"Keep that which is committed to thy charge," he said gently.
"Farewell – and the Lord bless you!"
Eleanor had bared her gauntleted hand; he gave it the old earnest grasp, lifted his hat, and went on his way. Eleanor turned her horse's head again and found herself alongside of Mr. Carlisle. She rode on briskly, pointing out to him how far ahead were the rest of the party.
"Was not your friend somebody that I know?" he enquired as soon as there was a convenient pause.
"I am sure I do not know," said Eleanor. "I do not know how good your memory may be. He is the gentleman that was my brother's tutor at home – some time ago."
"I thought I remembered. Is he tutoring some one else now?"
"I should think not. He just tells me he is about to sail for the South
Seas. Mr. Carlisle, Maggie has a very nice mouth."
"Her mistress has a very nice hand," he answered, bending forward to Maggie's bridle so that he could look up in Eleanor's face. "Only you let her rein be too slack, as of old. You like her better than Tippoo?"
"Tippoo is beyond my management."
"I am not going to let you say that. You shall mount Tippoo next time, and become acquainted with your own powers. You are not afraid of anything?"
"Yes, I am."
"You did not use it."
"Well I have not grown cowardly," said Eleanor; "but I am afraid of mounting Tippoo; and what I am afraid of, Mr. Carlisle, I will not do."
"Just the reverse maxim from that which I should have expected from you. Do you say your friend there is going to the South Seas?"
"Mr. Rhys?" said Eleanor, turning her face full upon him.
"If that is his name – yes. Why does he not stick to tutoring?"
"Does anybody stick to tutoring that can help it?"
"I should think not; but then as a tutor he would be in the way of better things; he could mount to something higher."
"I believe he has some expectation of that sort in going to the
Pacific," said Eleanor. She spoke it with a most commonplace coolness.
"Seems a very roundabout road to promotion," said Mr. Carlisle, watching Eleanor's hand and stealthily her face; "but I suppose he knows best. Your friend is not a Churchman, is he?"
"No."
"I remember him as a popular orator of great powers. What is he leaving
England for?"
"You assume somewhat too much knowledge on my part of people's designs," said Eleanor carelessly. "I must suppose that he likes work on the other side of the world better than to work here; – for some reason or other."
"How the reason should be promotion, puzzles me," said her companion; "but that
