"What about her?"
"She is not easily persuaded."
"No," Eleanor said. "She is not."
"And yet," he continued, "she appears to have decided to be in your favor."
"That suggests she has good judgment," she quipped.
"I have always thought that myself. It is an innate ability that she has, and it is not something that she tends to ignore."
"I would not think too much about it all. Perhaps she is simply trying to impress me?"
They walked a few steps in silence.
"She does not behave as she did just now," he said. "It does not matter who a person is."
"Perhaps she knows that she has no choice as it pertains to me?"
Julian considered it, though it was not possible. Lily had liked Eleanor before they had even decided to marry.
"She requires structure," he said instead, for they would not learn the truth of it. "It is what allows her to feel secure."
"I do not disagree."
"Then why did you indulge in more childish fantasies?"
"I would have said I introduced a game."
"A game is, by definition, childish."
"And she is a child, I will remind you. It is also harmless."
"It is not. It shall fill her head with thoughts, and not the sort that are conducive to her success."
Eleanor seemed rather taken back by that. Julian knew that what he was saying was ridiculous, but he had to consider everything. Lily would not be a child forever, and she would soon be expected to be the best of her peers. It made sense that she would always be ahead of them, even at such a tender age.
"Children should play. An imagination does not hurt her prospects when she will not even make her doubt for more than ten years."
"It hurts her prospects when it disrupts established order."
Eleanor slowed slightly, not stopping, but enough that the rhythm of their walk shifted.
"You place a great deal of weight on order," she said.
"It is necessary for stability," Julian replied. "For a life that can be relied upon to proceed without unnecessary complications. She might not be pleased about it now, but she will thank me one day."
Eleanor looked ahead for a moment before answering.
"And what happens when you are not with her anymore? She is not learning how to overcome her troubles when she is never given any to begin with."
For a moment, Julian considered telling her the truth; that Lily had already overcome far more hardship than most children her age that were in her position. If he did, he considered, she might understand why he was the way that he was, but he could not do so. He had no way of knowing how she would respond, and it was entirely possible that she would think it was not as awful as it had truly been.
"The time for her to learn resilience will come. I do not want her to know such difficulty yet."
"But–"
"My decision is final," he said, firmer than intended. "I know that we have said that she is essentially your family too now, but she is my sister. She is my responsibility. You are not her mother."