which Julia propounded one morning.

"Not much."

"Mamma says I shall go to dancing school next winter."

"Next winter! What, at Brompton?"

"O we are going to London after we go from here. So mamma says. Why
didn't you know it?"

Eleanor remained silent.

"Now what good is that going to do?" Julia went on. "What work is that
to fit me for, Eleanor?--dancing parties?"

"I hope it will not fit you for those," the elder sister replied
gravely.

"Why not? don't you go to them?"

"I am obliged to go sometimes--I never take part."

"Why not Eleanor? Why don't you? you can dance."

"Read," said Eleanor, pointing to the words. Julia read.

"'Whatsoever ye do, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus; giving thanks
to God and the Father by him.'--Well Eleanor?"

"I cannot find anything I can do in the Lord's service at such places,
except to stand by and say by my manner that I do not enjoy them nor
approve of them."

"That won't hinder other people enjoying them, though."

"I do not think people enjoy them much. You and I have a hundred times
as much fun in one good scamper over the moor. Dear old moor! I wish we
were back again. But other people's doing is not my business."

"Then what makes you go, Eleanor?"

"Mamma would be so exceedingly vexed if I did not. I mean to get out of
it soon--as soon as I can."

"Do you think you will, in London?"

Eleanor was silent, and thoughtful.

"Well, I know one thing," said Julia,--"I am not going to dancing
school. Mamma says it will make me graceful; and I think I am as
graceful as other people now--as most other people. I don't think I am
as graceful as you are. Don't you think so, Eleanor?"

Eleanor smiled, soberly enough.

"Eleanor, must I go to dancing school?"

"Why do you wish not to go?"

"Because you think it is wrong."

"Darling, you cannot displease mamma for such a reason. You must always
honour every wish of hers, except you thought that honouring her would
be to dishonour or displease the Lord."

The words were spoken and listened to with intense feeling and
earnestness on both sides; and the tears came back in Eleanor's prayer
that morning.

With the world at large, things maintained a very unaltered position
during the rest of the stay at Brighton. Mr. Carlisle kept his
position, advancing a little where it seemed possible. Eleanor kept
hers; neither advancing nor retreating. She was very good to Mr.
Carlisle; she did not throw him off;