‘A change—in the depth of winter—after being here just six weeks? No, I do not.’ ‘You are very decided, I see. Pardon me for pressing the question again. Are you quite decided to stay here?’ ‘Yes. Why not? Why should I go away? It is my home, as I said before,’ she said, looking at him rather impatiently. ‘You will be very dull. Otho, you see, has no scruples about leaving you, and will not return an hour the sooner from the knowledge that you are here alone.’ ‘And if I like Bradstane, and wish to remain at Thorsgarth, in spite of this dulness, and in spite of what Otho does?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Of course, in that case. There are compensations sometimes, which go a long way towards repaying a little dulness and solitude. Every one to his taste. If that is yours, I may as well proceed to tell you that my advice to you would be to prepare for reverses.’ ‘Reverses?’ ‘Yes. Racing, and the sort of horse-dealing in which Otho indulges—never to mention a dozen other expensive little trifles that he likes, are not profitable occupations, and he has not found them so. I speak plainly. You may live to see very evil days at Thorsgarth, if you choose to remain here. You may live to see Otho reduced to poverty, and, if your feelings are easily worked upon, your own fortune in danger—that is, if you should let yourself be deluded into the idea that you can help him out of his difficulties, and set him on his legs again.’ ‘I think I could meet reverses, if they came, without too much lamenting.’ ‘In addition to which he may at any time get married to your favourite, Magdalen Wynter, and request you to find another home.’ ‘I have a house of my own, and I should not wait to be asked to go.’ ‘Oh, you mean the Dower House—a nice old house, that. It stands quite near to my own old home, the Red Gables.’ ‘Yes. I have thought sometimes it would be a pleasant house to live in, as——’ ‘As you are so much alone,’ interposed Gilbert, almost eagerly. ‘Don’t you really think that it would be much better than for you to be here, alone, without chaperon or companion——’ ‘Nay,’ interposed Eleanor, half-smiling; ‘don’t twit me with that. I don’t want a chaperon; but if I did, how could I have one, when you know very well that Otho says——’ She stopped. Otho had said that one petticoat in the house was more than enough for him, and he would put up with no more. Gilbert smiled. ‘Yes, I know what Otho says. I was not twitting you. I only wish you would see that reason tells you to leave him, and not mix yourself in his affairs.’