company who remembered that, witness the still
close embrace which Eleanor threw around her, and the still hiding of
the girl's face on her mother's bosom. Mrs. Powle returned the embrace
heartily enough; but when Eleanor's motionless clasp had lasted as long
as she knew how to do anything with it and longer than she felt to be
graceful, Mrs. Powle whispered,

"Won't you introduce me to your aunt, my dear,--if this is she."

Eleanor released her mother, but sobbed helplessly for a few minutes;
then she raised her head and threw off her tears; and there was to one
of the two ladies an exquisite grace in the way she performed the
required office of making them known to each other. The gentleness of a
chastened heart, the strength of a loving one, the dignity of an humble
one, made her face and manner so lovely that Mrs. Caxton involuntarily
wished Mr. Rhys could have seen it. "But he will have chance enough,"
she thought, somewhat incongruously, as she met and returned her
sister-in-law's greetings. Mrs. Powle made them with ceremonious
respect, not make believe, and with a certain eagerness which welcomed
a diversion from Eleanor's somewhat troublesome agitation. Eleanor's
agitation troubled no one any more, however; she sat down calm and
quiet; and Mrs. Powle had leisure, glancing at her from time to time,
to get into smooth sailing intercourse with Mrs. Caxton. She took off
her bonnet, and talked about indifferent things, and sipped chocolate;
for it was just luncheon time. Ever and anon her eyes came back to
Eleanor; evidently as to something which troubled her and which puzzled
her; and Mrs. Caxton saw, which had also the effect of irritation too.
Very likely, Mrs. Caxton thought! Conscience on one hand not satisfied,
and ambition on the other hand disappointed, and Eleanor the point of
meeting for both uneasy feelings to concentrate their forces. It would
come out in words soon, Mrs. Caxton knew. But how lovely Eleanor seemed
to her. There was not even a cloud upon her brow now; fair as it was
pure and strong.

"And so you are going?" Mrs. Powle began at last, in a somewhat
constrained voice. Eleanor smiled.

"And _when_ are you going?"

"My letter said, Next Tuesday the ship sails."

"And pray, Eleanor, you are not going alone?"

"No, mamma. A gentleman and his wife are going the whole voyage with
me."

"Who are they?"

"A Mr. Amos and his wife."

"_What_ are they then? missionaries?"

"Yes, ma'am."