Mrs. Amos or to Mr. Balliol; she sheered off a little
from his wife. There was plenty of interesting conversation going on
with one and another; but Eleanor had a little the sense of being to
that lady an object of observation, and drew into a corner or into the
shade as much as she could.

"Your wife is very handsome, brother Rhys," Mrs. Balliol remarked in an
aside, towards the end of the evening.

"That is hardly much praise from you, sister Balliol," he answered
gravely. "I know you do not set much store by appearances."

"She is very young!"

Both looked over to the opposite corner where Eleanor was talking to
Mrs. Amos, sitting on a low seat and looking up; a little drawn back
into the shade, yet not so shaded but that the womanly modest sweetness
of her face could be seen well enough. Mr. Rhys made no answer.

"I judge, brother Rhys, that she has been brought up in the great
world,"--Mrs. Balliol went on, looking across to the ruffled sleeve.

"She is not in it now," Mr. Rhys observed quietly.

"No;--she is in good hands. But, brother Rhys, do you think our sister
understands exactly what sort of work she has come to do here?"

"She is teachable," he answered with great imperturbability.

"Well, you will be able to train her, if she wants it. I am glad to
know she is in such good hands. I think she has hardly yet a just
notion of what lies before her, brother Rhys."

"When did you make your observations?"

"She was with me, you know--you left her with me this morning. We were
alone, and we had a little conversation."

"Mrs. Balliol, do you think a just notion of _anything_ call be formed
in half an hour?"

His question was rather grave, and the lady's eyes wavered from meeting
his. She fidgeted a little.

"O you know best, of course," she said; "I have had very little
opportunity--I only judged from the want of seriousness; but that might
have been from some other cause. You must excuse me, if I spoke too
frankly."

"You can never do that to me," he said. "Thank you, sister Balliol. I
will take care of her."

Mrs. Balliol was reassured. But neither during their walk home nor ever
after, did Mr. Rhys tell Eleanor of this little bit of talk that had
concerned her.

CHAPTER XX.

AT WORK.

"My Lady comes; my Lady goes; he can see her day by day,
And bless his eyes with her beauty, and with blessings strew her way."

The breakfast-table was as much of a mystery to Eleanor as the din