‘Admiration!’ repeated Eleanor, indignantly; ‘as if one _admired_ a holy place! I daresay you have risen superior to all such superstitious considerations, but I say again, I think it is horrible; and I maintain that I do not think Miss Wynter is a good or a high-principled woman, and I am very sorry Otho is going to marry her.’ ‘Which of them do you look upon as the temple, and which as the cinder-heap?’ asked Gilbert politely, but with a queer look. Eleanor was furious with herself for laughing out, quickly and readily; but she had to admit that Gilbert had the best of it. Then a sudden gravity came over her; she caught her breath, and looked at him in renewed bewilderment. In what light did he wish her to see him; how did he desire her to view him, that he, who had cheated his brother, and undermined his father’s integrity, should have the effrontery to sit there and talk lightly about wrong being necessary to call forth the higher life, and to say that temples could not be properly ‘admired,’ unless there were sordid details close to them, to emphasise their beauty? Seen from her point of view, his conversation was sickening in its hypocrisy and unreality; and yet—again the feeling of surprise came over her—she was interested in it; she could not feel revolted. Was the man’s personal influence really so potent as to nullify all the effect of what she knew to his disadvantage? Gilbert had listened to her last words with an amused smile, betraying by nothing whether she hurt him or not; his gaze met hers steadily, and he continued to watch her while she silently reflected. At last he said, lightly still, and coldly— ‘I see you are wondering what to make of me. It is very natural—in you; and if you can trust me far enough to believe that anything disinterested can proceed out of my mouth, I would suggest to you not to go on wondering any more, but to listen to me, and attentively consider what I have to say to you.’ Eleanor started, reddening with confusion, and feeling, with a sudden revulsion, as some child might, which, instead of attending to its professor’s discourse, had been speculating about the wrinkles on the brow of the learned man, and was suddenly called to order. An immense distance seemed to open up at once between her and Gilbert. She remembered the sentiments she had attributed to him of admiration for herself, and felt that egregious vanity must have led her very far astray. ‘Indeed, I will listen to whatever you have to say. I think you are very kind to take so much trouble about—poor Otho.’