s she not lonely?
Would she not wear misanthropical or weary traces of such a life? None;
none were to be seen. Clear placidness dwelt on the brow, that looked
as if nothing ever ruffled it; the eye was full of business and
command; and the mouth,--its corners told of a fountain of sweetness
somewhere in the region of the heart. Eleanor looked, and went back to
her cup of tea and her supper with a renewed sense of comfort.

The supper was excellent too. It would have belied Mrs. Caxton's look
of executive capacity if it had not been. No fault was to be discerned
anywhere. The tea-service was extremely plain and inexpensive; such as
Mrs. Powle could not have used; that was certain. But then the bread,
and the mutton chops, and the butter, and even the tea, were such as
Mrs. Powle's china was never privileged to bear. And though Mrs. Caxton
left in the background every topic of doubtful agreeableness, the talk
flowed steadily with abundance of material and animation, during the
whole supper-time. Mrs. Caxton was the chief talker. She had plenty to
tell Eleanor of the country and people in the neighbourhood; of things
to be seen and things to be done; so that supper moved slowly, and was
a refreshment of mind as well as of body.

"You are very weary, my dear," said Mrs. Caxton, after the table was
cleared away, and the talk had continued through all that time. And
Eleanor confessed it. In the calm which was settling down upon her, the
strain of hours and days gone by began to be felt.

"You shall go to your room presently," said Mrs. Caxton; "and you shall
not get up to breakfast with me. That would be too early for you."

Eleanor was going to enter a protest, when her aunt turned and gave an
order in Welsh to the blue jacket then in the room. And then Eleanor
had a surprise. Mrs. Caxton took a seat at a little distance, before a
stand with a book; and the door opening again, in poured a stream of
blue jackets, three or four, followed by three men and a boy. All
ranged themselves on seats round the room, and Mrs. Caxton opened her
book and read a chapter in the Bible. Eleanor listened, in mute wonder
where this would end. It ended in all kneeling down and Mrs. Caxton
offering a prayer. An extempore prayer, which for simplicity, strength,
and feeling, answered all Eleanor's sense of what a prayer ought to be;
though how a woman could speak it before others and before _men_,
filled her with astonishment. But it filled her