As easily could he have become indifferent to his mother as to Adela.

As a married woman she was infinitely more to him than she had been as a girl; from her conversation, her countenance, he knew how richly she had developed, how her intelligence had ripened how her character had established itself in maturity.

In that utterance of her name the secret escaped him before he could think how impossible it was to address her so familiarly.

It was the perpetual key-word of his thoughts; only when he had heard it from his own lips did he realise what he had done.
When he had given the brief answer to her question he could find no more words.

But Adela spoke.
'What do you wish to say to me, Mr.Eldon ?' Whether or no he interpreted her voice by his own feelings, she seemed to plead with him to be manly and respect her womanhood.
'Only to say the common things which anyone must say in my position, but to say them so that you will believe they are not only a form.
The circumstances are so strange.