heart sprang with a sudden
temptation--doubted, balanced, and resolved. She had excuse enough; she
would do a rebellious thing. She would go there and rest. It might give
her a chance to see Mr. Rhys and hear him talk; it might not. If the
chance came, why she would be very glad of it. Eleanor had no money
about her; she hastily detached a gold pencil case from her watch
chain, and put it into the ragged creature's hand who had guided her;
saw him turn his back, then went with a sort of stealthy joy to the
front of Mrs. Williams's cottage, pushed the door open softly and went
in.

Nobody was there; not a cat; it was all still. An inner door stood
ajar; within there was a sound of voices, low and pleasant. Eleanor
supposed Mrs. Williams would make her appearance in a minute, and sank
down on the first chair that offered; sank even her head in her hands,
for very weariness and the very sense of rest and security gained. The
chair was one standing by the fire and near the open inner door; the
voices came quite plainly through; and the next minute let Eleanor know
that one of them was the voice of her little sister Julia; she heard
one of Julia's joyous utterances. The other voice belonged to Mr. Rhys.
No sound of Mrs. Williams. Eleanor sat still, her head bowed in her
hands, and listened.

It seemed that Julia was looking at something--or some collection of
things. Eleanor could hear the slight rustling of paper handled--then a
pause and talk. Julia had a great deal to say. Eleanor presently made
out that they were looking at a collection of plants. She felt so tired
that she had no inclination to move a single muscle. Mind and body sat
still to listen.

"And what is that?" she heard Julia say.

"Mountain fern."

"Isn't it beautiful! O that's as pretty as a feather."

"If you saw them growing, dozens of them springing from the same root,
you would think them beautiful. Then those brown edgings are black as
jet and glossy."

"Are those the _thecoe_, Mr. Rhys?"

"Yes. The Lastraeas, and all their family, have the fruit in those
little round spots, each with its own covering; that is their mark."

"It is so funny that plants should have families," said Julia. "Now is
this one of the family, Mr. Rhys?"

"Certainly; that is a Cystopteris."

"It's a dear little thing! Where did you get it, Mr. Rhys?"

"I do not remember. They grow pretty nearly all over; you find them on
rocks, and walls."

"_I_ don't find the