s a nice fellow. He is a
Christian, as I told you; and a true labourer in the great vineyard. I
believe he never misses an opportunity to speak to his countrymen in a
quiet way and tell them the truth. He has brought a great many to know
it. In my service he is very faithful."

"No wonder this garden looks nice," said Eleanor.

"I asked Solomon one day about his religious experience. He said he was
very happy; he had enjoyed religion all the day. He said he rose early
in the morning and prayed that the Lord would greatly bless him and
keep him; and that it had been so, and generally was so when he
attended to religious duties early in the morning. 'But if I neglect
and rush into the world,' he said, 'without properly attending to my
religious duties, nothing goes right. I am wrong in my own heart, and
no one round me is right.'"

"Good testimony," said Eleanor. "Is he your cook as well as your
gardener?"

"I had forgotten all about the cook," said Mr. Rhys. "Come and see the
kitchen."

Near the main dwelling house, in this planted enclosure, were several
smaller houses. Mr. Rhys at last took Eleanor that way, and permitted
her to inspect them. The one nearest the main building was fitted for a
laundry. The furthest was a sleeping house for the servants. The middle
one was the kitchen. It was a Fijian kitchen. Here was a large
fireplace, of the original fashion which had moved Eleanor's wonder in
the dining-room; with a Fijian framework of wood at one side of it,
holding native vessels of pottery, larger and smaller, and variously
shaped, for cooking purposes. Some more homelike iron utensils were to
be seen also; with other kitchen appurtenances, water jars and so
forth. A fire had been in the fireplace, and the signs of cookery were
remaining; but in all the houses, nobody was anywhere visible.

"Solomon is gone to collect your servants," said Mr. Rhys. "That
explains the present solitude."

"Did he cook that fish?"

"I have not tried him in cooking," said Mr. Rhys with a gravity that
was perfect. "I do not know what he could do if he was tried."

"Who did it then?"

His smile was wonderfully pleasant--now that it could be no longer kept
back--as he answered, "Your servant."

"_You_, Rowland! And the dinner yesterday?"

"Do not praise me," he said with the same look, "lest I should spoil
the dinner to-day. I do not expect there will be anybody here till
afternoon."

"Then you shall see what I can do!"