id; and very busy they
were. Eleanor was not asked to join them, and she did not choose to
volunteer; she watched them from the house. They were very honestly
busy; planting and removing and consulting; in real garden work; yet it
was manifest their minds had also much more in common, in matters of
greater interest; they stood and talked for long intervals when the
flowers were forgotten. They were very near each other, those two,
evidently, in regard and mutual confidence and probably mutual
admiration also. It was very strange Eleanor should never have come to
the knowledge of it till to-day. And yet, why should she? She had never
mentioned the name of Mr. Rhys to her aunt in any of her stories of
Wiglands.

He was away all the afternoon and the evening, and came back again
late; a tired and exhausted man. He said nothing, except to officiate
at family prayers; but Eleanor was delighted that he was to spend the
night at the farm and they would have him at breakfast. Only to see him
and hear him talk to others, only the tones of his voice, brought up to
her everything that was good and strong and pure and happy. He did not
seem inclined to advance at all upon their Wiglands acquaintance. He
made no allusion to it. As far as she was concerned, Eleanor thought
that there was more reserve in his manner towards her than he had
shewed there. No matter. With Mrs. Caxton he was very much at home; and
she could study him at her ease all the better for not talking to him.

CHAPTER II.

WITH THE BASKET.

"The flush of life may well be seen
Thrilling back over hills and valleys;
The cowslip startles in meadows green,
The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice,
And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean
To be some happy creature's palace."

"Mrs. Caxton," said Mr. Rhys the next morning, when half the breakfast
had been passed in silence, "have you such a thing as a microscope in
the house?"

"I am afraid not. Why do you ask?"

"Only, that I have suddenly discovered myself to be very ignorant, in a
department of knowledge where it would be very pleasant as well as
proper to be otherwise. I have been reading a book on some of the forms
of life which are only to be known through the help of glasses; and I
find there is a world there I know nothing about. That book has made a
boy of me."

"How?" said Mrs. Caxton smiling.

"You think I always retain more or less of that character! Well--it has
m