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As soon as she realized she was being pursued, Eleanor turned on Mr Slope. "Please don't let me take you from the party," said she, with all the stiffness she knew how to use. "I beg you, Mr Slope, to go back."

In the garden tent, the meal was coming to an end. Mr Slope decided that it was the right time to make his declaration to the widow. He had not hesitated to drink his share of wine, in order to give himself the necessary courage. And now he followed Eleanor as she left the tent and walked quickly out into the gardens, which were almost as deserted as he could wish.

But Mr Slope would not allow himself to be dismissed like that. He saw she was angry with him. Poor lady! She was probably unhappy that, while people had been talking of her possible marriage to him, she had been unable to announce it to the world. "You must permit me to accompany you," he said. "I could not think of allowing you to walk alone."

"Indeed you must, Mr Slope," said Eleanor, still very stiffly. "It is my special wish to be alone."

Mr Slope saw that it must be now or never. "Do not ask me to leave you, Mrs Bold," he said with a tender yet passionate look, "until I have spoken the words with which my heart is full."

Eleanor now understood what she was about to go through, and the knowledge of it made her very miserable. She could refuse Mr Slope, but the fact of his making her an offer would prove the archdeacon right and herself wrong.

But gentlemen are not easily frozen when they are full of wine, and at no time would it have been easy to freeze Mr Slope. "There are things, Mrs Bold, which a man cannot well say before a crowd," he whispered. He repeated his tender, passionate look.

"I don't know what you can have to say to me, Mr Slope, that you could not say to me over lunch," she replied, looking at him in a way that ought to have frozen him.

"Thank you, Mr Slope, but for the very short time I shall remain with you, I prefer to walk alone."

Eleanor had not wanted to stand still in front of the garden tent and receive his offer in full view of Miss Thorne's guests. So she had walked on, and Mr Slope offered her his arm.

"And must it be so short?" said he, "Must it be --"

Mr Slope was still determined to be very tender, but he was also feeling rather angry. The widow seemed to have no idea of the honour she was about to receive. "That is cruel," said he. "The Church allows the worst of us to hope, at least!" There was a pause. "Beautiful woman!" he cried at last. "Beautiful woman, you cannot pretend to be unaware that I love you! Yes, Eleanor, yes, I love you. Next to my hopes of heaven are my hopes of possessing you!" (Mr Slope's memory was faulty here, or he would have mentioned the post of dean.) "Say, Eleanor, dearest Eleanor, shall we walk that sweet path to heaven together?"

"Yes," said Eleanor, interrupting him, "as short as possible, if you please, sir."

"Kindly hope for nothing from me, Mr Slope. Our friendship is very slight and will probably remain that way."

Eleanor had no intention of ever walking together with Mr Slope on any path in future, but felt she ought to allow him to finish his speech before she answered him.

"I had hoped, Mrs Bold -- I had hoped --"

"My name, Mr Slope, is Mrs Bold," said Eleanor, her disgust at this familiarity overcoming her desire to be polite.

The moment she had done it, she regretted it, as an unladylike thing to do. She was tempted to beg his pardon, but fortunately thought better of it. "I will never, never speak another word to you!" she said breathlessly, and ran quickly back along the path to the house.

She jumped away from him as if he were a snake, and then, quick as a flash, she raised her little hand and smacked him hard on the ear. The sound rang among the trees like a clap of thunder.

Being hit by a woman was as much an insult to Mr Slope as being hit by a man. His face was sore and his pride was badly injured. He was extremely angry with the widow, and bitter thoughts of revenge filled his head. But after a while he recovered his calmness, and walked slowly back to the garden tent, taking a different direction from Eleanor. Here he heard that the dean had just died, and so he wasted no more time at Ullathorne, but returned to Barchester as speedily as possible.

"Sweetest angel, be not so cold," said he, and as he said it, the wine he had drunk encouraged him to put an arm round her waist, as a proof of his feelings for her.

"Ah! Eleanor, will it not be sweet to travel hand in hand through the valley of life? Ah! Eleanor --"

As Eleanor approached the house, she saw Charlotte Stanhope and ran across the grass to join her friend.

"Why, what's the matter?" said Miss Stanhope, seeing that there were tears on Eleanor's face and her hands were trembling. "What can I do to help? Can Bertie do anything?"

"Oh no, no, no," said Eleanor. "Only, that hateful man --"

"What hateful man?" asked Charlotte, interested.

"Mr Slope. He's a disgusting, wicked man, and it would teach him a lesson if I told the bishop all about it!"

"That's just it, my dear. He heard about that, and therefore imagined that you were in love with him."

"Oh Charlotte!" she sobbed. "I'm glad I've found you!"

"Why did he think he could court me? I never gave him any encouragement, only defended him when others criticized him."

Eleanor knew Charlotte was right about Mr Slope, as her family had been. She sincerely regretted her defence of him, and promised herself she would never fight against injustice again.

"Believe me, if you want to cause trouble for him, you had far better tell Mrs Proudie. But what did he do?"

"But what did he do?" asked Charlotte again.

"By the waist?"

"He -- he talked such dreadful nonsense about religion and heaven and love. And then -- he took hold of me!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" Charlotte laughed heartily at the thought of Mr Slope's embarrassment. But her aim was to endear herself to Mrs Bold, so she was quick to stop laughing and offer sympathy.

"Yes," said Eleanor, shuddering. "Then I got away from him and smacked his face and ran along the path until I saw you!"

So Charlotte played what she hoped would be the final move of the game. She persuaded Eleanor to let her arrange their departure from Ullathorne. Madeline, Charlotte, and the servants would leave first in the Stanhopes" carriage, which would then return to take Dr Stanhope, Bertie, and Eleanor home. Mr Slope would be asked to make his own way back. (He had already done this, but they were unaware of the fact.)

She was eager for her brother to propose and be accepted as soon as possible. Bertie's debts, and Dr Stanhope's disapproval of his son, were so great that Bertie would have to leave England at once, unless he could be sure of the widow's fortune. Luckily, it was clear that Mr Slope was no longer a rival, and now was the perfect opportunity for Bertie to make his declaration, and win the lady.

"Very," agreed Eleanor, who had never in her life passed a more unpleasant day.

"I hope Mr Harding has enjoyed himself."

"Oh yes, very much," said Eleanor, who had not seen her father since soon after her arrival.

"I hope Mrs Grantly is quite well."

"It has been a very pleasant party," said Mr Arabin.

"She seemed to be quite well. She is here, unless, that is, she has already left."

In order to gain the signora's approval of these arrangements, Charlotte took Eleanor into the sitting room, where they found Mr Arabin sitting beside Madeline's sofa. He got up when he saw Eleanor, and they had a short, awkward conversation while the two sisters were talking to each other.

Finally Charlotte and Eleanor set off in search of Bertie. They found him sitting comfortably on the grass, smoking a cigarette and telling a young man he had just met about Italy.

"Oh yes. I was talking to her just now. Looking very well indeed." And then Mr Arabin, finding it impossible to say any more, stood silent until Charlotte finished her conversation, and Mrs Bold stood equally silent, occupied in arranging her rings.

However, he threw away his cigarette and joined the ladies, giving his arm to Eleanor. Charlotte told him the whole story of Mr Slope's misbehaviour, and put Eleanor under her brother's protection. She then hurried away, leaving Bertie to walk with the widow alone.

Bertie looked up and saw them. From the first moment of meeting her, he had liked Eleanor Bold. If she had had no fortune, and he had not been obeying Charlotte's orders, he would have fallen violently in love with her. But now he regarded her, not as a beautiful woman, but as a way of making money. This new profession, called marriage, did not attract him at all.

"Bertie, I've been looking for you everywhere," said Charlotte. "Come here at once."

Bertie Stanhope was idle, but he was not wicked. He was beginning to feel that this plan of Charlotte's, which involved his catching Mrs Bold and living on her money instead of his father's, was too deliberate and cold-blooded for him. And indeed, if he were successful with Eleanor, what would be his reward? A quiet life in Barchester by the widow's fireside; his highest excitement would be the occasional dinner at Plumstead, if, of course, the archdeacon ever agreed to receive him there. He wondered if he could find a way of obeying Charlotte and at the same time saving the widow from marriage to him.

"Mrs Bold," he began very seriously, "I may have to leave Barchester. I must take up a profession of some kind."

"In this matter I am determined to be guided completely by you." And Bertie turned to face her on the path. In their walk they had come to the exact place where Eleanor had raised her hand to Mr Slope's face. Was she to receive another proposal here, so soon after the chaplain's? "We have been very good friends, Mrs Bold, have we not?" Bertie continued.

"I think you could take an interest in some sort of work, Mr Stanhope," said Eleanor, who felt a friendly fondness for him.

"Yes, I think we have."

Suddenly Eleanor realized why Charlotte had always been so charming and hospitable towards her -- it had all been a plan to get hold of her income for Bertie's benefit! She was horrified.

"I must tell you," continued Bertie in embarrassment, "that my sister's hopes for me are higher than my own."

"Please don't be angry with me, Mrs Bold. I must confess it all to you. My dear sister Charlotte only thinks of my happiness, and -- wants me to marry you!"

This was beyond everything! Eleanor was furious, and deeply offended; she certainly would not lie, to prevent his sister being angry with him. "I regret to say it, Mr Stanhope, but after what has passed, I believe that all communication between your family and myself had better come to an end at once."

"But if you do not yourself wish to marry me, then why are you telling me this?" asked Eleanor, angry at such an insulting pretence of a proposal.

"Because I must not anger her. And, as I understand, there is no chance of my persuading you to marry me. I would very much like you to tell her that I did propose to you, but that you simply turned me down."

But now her self-control broke down, and she started sobbing passionately. "How could you? I thought you were a friend! Oh, I wish I were at home!"

Poor Bertie was greatly moved. "Don't worry, I shall not annoy you any more. I'll take you to the carriage immediately. You shall share it with my father, and I'll walk home or somewhere -- it doesn't much matter what I do."

He gently handed her a handkerchief to dry her tears, and accompanied her to the house. After she had said goodbye to the Thornes, he helped her into the waiting carriage. Eleanor, looking out of the window as the carriage drove off, saw him with his hat in his hand, bowing with his usual cheerful smile. It was many a long year before she saw him again.