cast down. Mr.
Carlisle marked her.

"It is not safe for you, Eleanor," he said.

"It is perfectly safe," she answered with a smile that had a curious
brightness in it. "I run no risk whatever."

"You are a bold creature," said her mother, "and always were; but that
is no reason why you should be allowed to go your own crazy ways. I
will have no more of this, Eleanor."

"Mamma, I am perfectly safe. I have nothing at all to fear. I would not
fail of going for anything in the world." She spoke with an earnest and
shadowed face now. She felt it.

"Who goes with you? or do you go alone?"

"No, ma'am--Thomas is with me always."

"How came you to get into such a strange place?"

"I heard of it--and there is sure to be more to do in such a work than
there are hands for. I know one or two of the gentlemen that teach
there also."

"Methodists, I suppose?" said Mrs. Powle sneeringly.

"One of them is, mamma; the other is a Churchman."

"And do you _teach_ there?"

"Yes, ma'am--a large class of boys." Eleanor's smile came again--and
went.

"I'll have no more of it, Eleanor. I will not. It is just absurdity and
fanaticism, the whole thing. Why shouldn't those boys go to the regular
schools, instead of your giving your time and risking your life to
teach them Sundays? _You_ indeed!"

"You do not know what sort of boys they are, mamma; or you would not
ask that."

"I suppose they have learned some things too well already?" said Mr.
Carlisle.

"Well, I'll have no more of it!" said Mrs. Powle. "I am disgusted with
the whole thing. If they are not good boys, the House of Correction is
the best place for them. Mr. Carlisle, do you not say so?"

Mr. Carlisle's knowledge of the limits of Houses of Correction and the
number of boys in London who were not good boys, forbade him to give an
affirmative answer; his character as a reformer also came up before
him. More than all, Eleanor's face, which was somewhat sad.

"Mrs. Powle, I am going to petition you to suspend judgment, and
reconsider the case of the Ragged schools. I confess to a selfish
motive in my request--I have a desire to go there myself and see this
lady with her scholars around her. The picturesque effect, I should
say, must be striking."

Mrs. Powle looked at him as a very unwise and obstinate man, who was
bewitched into false action.

"If you have a fancy for such effects," she said; "I suppose you must
do as you please. To me the effect is strikin