will
have him at the farm, I hope, till he goes. I shall trust you to keep
the flowers fresh in his room, Eleanor.--No, my dear; Jane will stay
with Nanny to-night."

So Mr. Rhys stayed at the farm, and certainly wanted for no comfort
that the mistress of it could secure to him. Neither did Eleanor
neglect the flowers. Mr. Rhys made his home there, and went out to his
preaching and visiting and teaching as vigorously as ever; and was
often a tired man when he came home. Nevertheless he gained ground, to
Mrs. Caxton's great satisfaction. He grew stronger; and was less often
a silent, prostrated, done-over member of their little circle. At first
he was very often that. But when he felt well he was exceedingly social
and conversational; and the Plassy farmhouse had never been so
pleasant, nor the evenings and mornings and meal times so full of
interest. In all which however Mrs. Caxton thought Eleanor took a very
quiet part.

"You do not do your share, Eleanor," she said one day; "you are become
nothing of a talker; and I can bear witness you had a tongue once. Has
religion made you silent, my dear?"

"No, aunty," said Eleanor laughing; "but you forget--you have somebody
else to talk to now."

"I am sure, and so have you."

"No ma'am--Mr. Rhys does not talk to me generally."

"I would return good for evil, then; and not silence for silence."

"I can't, aunty. Don't you know, there are some people that have a sort
of quieting effect upon one?"

"I don't think anybody ever did upon me," said Mrs. Caxton; "and I am
sure Mr. Rhys would be shocked if he knew the effect of his presence."

One morning Mrs. Caxton asked Mr. Rhys at breakfast if he had leisure
to unpack a box for her. He said yes, with great alacrity; and Mrs.
Caxton had the box brought in.

"What is it?" said Mr. Rhys as he began his work. "Am I to take care of
china and glass--or to find gardener's plants nicely done up--or best
of all, books?"

"I hope, something better yet," said Mrs. Caxton.

"There is a good deal of it, whatever it is," said Mr. Rhys, taking out
one and another and another carefully wrapped up bit of something.
"Curiosity can go no further!"

He stopped unpacking, and took the wrapping papers off one or two
odd-looking little pieces of brass; paused,--then suddenly exclaimed,
"Mrs. Caxton!--"

"Well?" said that lady smiling.

"It is just like you! I might have known the other morning what all
that talk would end in."