Eleanor felt utterly worried, and did not in the least know how to
frame her next question.

"What has put you upon thinking of helmets, Miss Eleanor?"

"I was curious--" said Eleanor.

"You had some serious thoughts in your illness?" said the doctor.
"Well, my dear--I am glad of it. Serious thoughts do not in the least
interfere with all proper present enjoyments; and with improper ones
you would not wish to have anything to do."

"May we not say that serious thoughts are the _foundation_ of all true
present enjoyment?" said another voice. It was Mr. Rhys who spoke.
Eleanor started to hear him, and to see him suddenly in the place where
Mr. Carlisle had been, standing in the window.

"Eh? Well--no,--not just that," said Dr. Cairnes coolly. "I have a good
deal of enjoyment in various things--this fair day and this fair
company, for example, and Mrs. Powle's excellent cup of tea--with which
I apprehend, serious thoughts have nothing to do."

"But we are commanded to do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus."

"Well--um! That is to be taken of course in its rational significance.
A cup of tea is a cup of tea--and nothing more. There is nothing at the
bottom of it--ha, ha!--but a little sugar. Nothing more serious."

Mr. Rhys's figure standing in the window certainly hindered a part of
the light. To judge by the doctor's face, he was keeping out the whole.

"What do you suppose the apostle means, sir, when he says,
'Henceforward know I no man after the flesh?'"

"Hum!--Ah,--well, he was an apostle. I am not. Perhaps you are?"

There was a degree of covert disdain in this speech, which Eleanor
wondered at in so well-bred a man as Dr. Cairnes. Mr. Rhys answered
with perfect steadiness, with no change of tone or manner.

"Without being inspired--I think, in the sense of _messenger_, every
minister of Christ is his apostle."

"Ah! Well!--I am not even apostolic," said the doctor, with one or two
contented and discontented grunts. Eleanor understood them; the content
was his own, the discontent referred to the speaker whose words were so
inopportune. The doctor rose and left the ground. Mr. Rhys had gone
even before him; and Eleanor wondered anew whether this man were indeed
shy or not. He was so little seen and heard; yet spoke, when he spoke,
with such clearness and self-possession. He was gone now, and Mr.
Carlisle was still busy. Up came Miss Broadus and took the vacant seat.

It is impossible to describe