sister or his children either. For
Eleanor herself, she had no great expectation, except of rural
retirement in a place where Mr. Carlisle would not follow her. That was
enough. She had heard besides that the country was beautiful, and her
aunt well off.

As she stepped up now doubtfully to the girl with the light, looking to
see whether she were right or wrong, the girl moved a little aside so
as to light the entrance, and Eleanor passed on, discerning another
figure behind. A good wholesome voice exclaimed, "You are welcome, my
dear! It is Eleanor?" and the next instant Mr Powle's daughter found
herself taken into one of those warm, gentle, genial embraces, that
tell unmistakeably what sort of a heart moves the enfolding arms. It
was rest and strength at once; and the lips that kissed her--there is a
great deal of character in a kiss--were at once sweet and firm.

"You have been all day travelling, my dear. You must be in want of
rest."

There was that sort of clear strength in the voice, to which one gives,
even in the dark, one's confidence. Eleanor's foot fell more firmly on
the tiled floor, as she followed her aunt along a passage or two; a
little uncertainty in her heart was quieted; she was ready prepared to
expect anything pleasant; and as they turned in at a low door, the
expectation was met.

The door admitted them to a low-ceiled room, also with a tiled floor,
large and light. A good wood fire burned in the quaint chimney-piece;
before it a table stood prepared for supper. A bit of carpet was laid
down under the table and made a spot of extra comfort in the middle of
the floor. Dark plain wainscotting, heavy furniture of simplest
fashion, little windows well curtained; all nothing to speak of; all
joined inexplicably to produce the impression of order, stability and
repose, which seized upon Eleanor almost before she had time to observe
details. But the mute things in a house have an odd way of telegraphing
to a stranger what sort of a spirit dwells in the midst of them. It is
always so; and Mrs. Caxton's room assured Eleanor that her first
notions of its mistress were not ill-founded. She had opportunity to
test and strengthen them now, in the full blaze of lamp and firelight;
as her aunt stood before her taking off her bonnet and wrappers and
handing them over to another attendant with a candle and a blue jacket.

In the low room Mrs. Caxton looked even taller than belonged to her;
and she was tall,