" he answered gravely.
And the thought and the look went to something from which he was very
sorry to be missing.

"But you will be soon well again--will you not? and among us again."

"I do not know," he said. "I am sometimes inclined to think my work is
done."

"What work, Mr. Rhys?" said Julia. "Ferns, do you mean?"

"No."

"What work, Mr. Rhys?"

"I mean the Lord's work, Julia, which he has given me to do."

"Do you mean preaching?"

"That is part of it."

"What else is your work, Mr. Rhys?" said Julia, hanging about the couch
with an affectionate eye. So affectionate, that her sister's rebuke of
her forwardness was checked.

"Doing all I can, Julia, in every way, to tell people of the Lord
Jesus."

"Was that the work you were going to that horrid place to do?"

"Yes."

"Then I am glad you are sick!"

"That is very unkind of you," said he with a gravity which Eleanor was
not sure was real.

"It is better for you to be sick than to go away from England," said
Julia decidedly.

"But if I am not well enough to go there, I shall go somewhere else."

"Where?"

"What have you got in that saucer?"

"Jelly for you. Won't you eat it, Mr. Rhys? There is sago in the
basket. It will do you good."

"Will you not offer your sister some?"

"No. She gets plenty at home. Eat it, Mr. Rhys, won't you?"

He took a few spoonfuls, smiled at her, and told her it was very good.
It was a smile worth having. But both sisters saw that he looked
fearfully pale and worn.

"I must see if Mrs. Williams has not some berries to offer you," he
said.

"Where are you going, Mr. Rhys, if you do not go to that place?" Julia
persisted.

"If I do not go there, I think I shall go home."

"Home?"

"Yes."

"Where is that?" said Julia hanging about him.

"I meant my everlasting home, Julia."

"O don't, Mr. Rhys!" cried the child in a half vexed tone. "Eat some
more jelly--do!"

"I am very willing to stay, Julia, if my Master has work for me to do."

"You had charge of a chapel at Lily Dale, Mr. Rhys, I am told?" Eleanor
said, feeling awkward.

"No--at Croydon, beyond."

"At Croydon! that is nine miles off. How did you get there?"

The question escaped Eleanor. He hesitated, and answered simply, "I had
no way but to walk. I found that very pleasant in summer mornings."

"Walk to Croydon and back, and preach there! I do not wonder you are
sick, Mr. Rhys."

"I did not walk back the same day."

"But then whe