a
vessel for food as can be."

Mrs. Powle rose up and began to arrange her shawl, with an air which
said, "I do not understand it!"

"Mamma, what are you about?"

"Eleanor, you make me very uncomfortable."

"Do I? Why should I, mamma?"

"It is no use talking." Then suddenly facing round on Eleanor she said,
"What are you going to do for servants in that dreadful place?"

"Mr. Rhys says he has a most faithful servant--who is much attached to
him, and does as well as he can desire."

"One of those native savages?"

"He was; he is a Christian now, and a good one."

Mrs. Powle looked as if she did not know how to believe her daughter.

"Aren't you afraid of what you are about, Eleanor--to venture among
those creatures? and to take all that voyage first, alone? Are you not
afraid?"

There was that in the very simpleness and quietness of Eleanor's answer
that put her negative beyond a question. Mrs. Powle sat down again for
very bewilderment.

"Why are you not afraid?" she said. "You never were afraid of little
things, I know; but those houses--Are there no thieves among those
heathen?"

"A good many."

"What is to keep them out of your house? Anybody could cut through a
reed wall with a knife--and make no noise about it. Where is your
security?"

Alas, in the one face there was such ignorance, in the other such
sorrowful consciousness of that ignorance, that the two faces at first
looked mutely into each other across the gulf between them.

"Mamma," said Eleanor, "why will you not understand me? Do you not
know,--the Eternal God is our refuge!"

The still, grand expression of faith Mrs. Powle could not receive; but
the speaking of Eleanor's eyes she did. She turned from them.

"Good morning, sister Caxton," she said. "I will go. I cannot bear it
any longer to-day."

"You will come to-morrow, sister Powle?"

"Yes. O yes. I'll be here to-morrow. I will get my feelings quieted by
that time. Good bye, Eleanor."

"Mamma," said the girl trembling, "when will you bring Julia?"

"Now Eleanor, don't let us talk about anything more that is
disagreeable. I do not want to say anything about Julia. You have taken
your way--and I do not mean to unsettle you in it; but Julia is in
another line, and I cannot have you interfere with her. I am very sorry
it is so,--but it is not my doing. I cannot help it. I do not want to
give you pain."

Mrs. Powle departed. Eleanor came back from attending her to the door,