all about them. Then how Mrs. Caxton's own household had prospered; how
the dairy went on; and there were some favourite cows that Eleanor
desired to hear of. From the cows they got to the garden. And all the
while the lovely meadow valley lay spread out in its greenness before
Eleanor; the beautiful old hills drew the same loved outline across the
sunset sky; the lights and shadows were of June; and the garden at hand
was a rich mass of beauty sloping its terraced sweetness down to the
river. Just as it was a year ago, when the summons came for Eleanor to
leave it; only the garden seemed even more gorgeously rich than then.
Just the same; even to the dish of strawberries on the table. But that
was not wreathed with ivy and myrtle now.
"Aunt Caxton, this is like the very same evening that I was here last."
"It is almost a year," said Mrs. Caxton.
Neither added anything to these two very unremarkable remarks; and
silence fell with the evening light, as the servants were clearing away
the table. Perhaps the mountains with the clear paling sky beyond them,
were suggestive. Both the ladies looked so.
"My dear," said Mrs. Caxton then, "let me understand a little better
about this affair that gives you to me. Do you come, or are you sent?"
"It is formal banishment, aunt Caxton. I am sent from them at home; but
sent to go whither I will. So I come, to you."
"What is the term assigned to this banishment?"
"None. It is absolute--unless or until I will grant Mr. Carlisle's
wishes, or giving up being, as papa says, a Methodist. But that makes
it final--as far as I am concerned."
"They will think better of it by and by."
"I hope so," said Eleanor faintly. "It seems a strange thing to me,
aunt Caxton, that this should have happened to me--just now when I am
so needed at home. Papa is unwell--and I was beginning to get his
ear,--and I have great influence over Julia, who only wants leading to
go in the right way. And I am taken away from all that. I cannot help
wondering why."
"Let it be to the glory of God, Eleanor; that is all your concern. The
rest you will understand by and by."
"But that is the very thing. It is hard to see how it can be to his
glory."
"Do not try," said Mrs. Caxton smiling. "The Lord never puts his
children anywhere where they cannot glorify him; and he never sends
them where they have not work to do or a lesson to learn. Perhaps this
is your lesson, Eleanor--to learn to have no hom
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