"Going to that same place?"

"Yes, ma'am--very nicely for me."

"Pray how long do you expect the voyage will take you?"

"I am not certain--it is made, or can be made, in four or five months;
but then we may have to stop awhile at Sydney."

"Sydney? what Sydney? Where is that?"

"Australia, mamma," said Eleanor smiling. "New South Wales. Don't you
know?"

"_Australia!_ Are you going there? To Botany Bay?"

"No, mamma; not to Botany Bay. And I only take Australia by the way. I
go further."

"_Further_ than Botany Bay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well certainly," said Mrs. Powle with an accent of restrained despair,
"the present age is enterprising beyond what was ever known in my young
days. What do you think, sister Caxton, of a young lady taking voyage
five months long after her husband, instead of her husband taking it
for her? He ought to be a grateful man, I think!"

"Certainly; but not too grateful," Mrs. Caxton answered composedly;
"for in this case necessity alters the rule."

"I do not understand such necessities," said Mrs. Powle; "at least if a
thing cannot be done properly, I should say it was better not to do it
at all. However, I suppose it is too late to speak now. I would not
have my daughter hold herself so lightly as to confer such an honour on
any man; but I gave her to you to dispose of, so no doubt it is all
right. I hope Mr. What's-his-name is worthy of it."

"Mamma, let me give you another cup of chocolate," said Eleanor. And
she served her with the chocolate and the toast and the hung beef, in a
way that gave Mrs. Caxton's heart a feast. There was the beautiful calm
and high grace with which Eleanor used to meet her social difficulties
two years ago, and baffle both her trials and her tempters. Mrs. Caxton
had never seen it called for. Her face shewed not the slightest
embarrassment at her mother's words; not a shade of rising colour did
dishonour to Mr. Rhys by proving that she so much as even felt the
slurs against him or the jealousy professed on her own behalf.
Eleanor's calm sweet face was an assertion both of his dignity and her
own. Perhaps Mrs. Powle felt herself in a hopeless case.

"What do you expect to live on out there?" she said, changing her
ground, as she dipped her toast into chocolate. "You won't have this
sort of thing."

"I have never thought much about it," said Eleanor smiling. "Where
other people live and grow strong, I suppose I can."

"No, it does not follow