w
there--do you see anything?"

"Dolphin--," said Mr. Amos.

"What do you think of them?"

"Beautiful!" said Mr. Amos. "Beautiful, undoubtedly! as brilliant as if
they had just come out of the jeweller's shop, polished silver. How
clear the water is! I can see them perfectly--far below."

"Isn't the sea better than a jeweller's shop?"

"I never thought of it before," said Mr. Amos laughing; "but it
certainly is; though I think it is the first time the comparison has
been made."

"Did you ever go to Tenby?"

"I never did."

"Nor I; but I have heard the sea-caves in its neighbourhood described
as more splendid in their natural treasures of vegetable and animal
growth, than any jeweller's shop could be--were he the richest in
London."

"_Splendid?_" said Mr. Amos.

"Yes--for brilliance and variety of colour."

"Is it possible? These are things that I do not know."

"You will be likely to know them. The lagoons around the Polynesian
islands--the still waters within the barrier-reefs, you understand--are
lined with most gorgeous and wonderful displays of this kind. One seems
to be sailing over a mine of gems--only not in the rough, but already
cut and set as no workman of earth could do them."

"Ah," said Mr. Amos, "I fancy you have had advantages of hearing about
these islands, that I have not enjoyed."

Eleanor was checked, and coloured a little; then rallied herself.

"Look now over yonder, Mr. Amos--at those clouds."

"I have looked at them every evening," he said.

Their eyes were turned towards the western heavens, where the setting
sun was gathering his mantle of purple and gold around him before
saying good night to the world. Every glory of light and colouring was
there, among the thick folds of his vapourous drapery; and changing and
blending and shifting softly from one hue of richness to another.

"I suppose you will tell me now," said Mr. Amos with a smile of some
humour, "that no upholsterer's hangings can rival that. I give up--as
the schoolboys say. Yet we do lose some things. What do you say to a
land without churches?"

"O it is not," said Eleanor. "Chapels are rising everywhere--in every
village, on some islands; and very neat ones."

"I am afraid," said Mr. Amos with his former look of quiet humour, "you
would not be of the mind of a lady I heard rejoicing once over the
celebration of the church service at Oxford. She remarked, that it was
a subject of joyful thought and remembr