ting among my boxes? I
could get the better of the mosquitos, I think."

"How would you like to help bind books?" said Mrs. Caxton. "Or
translate? Mr. Rhys seems to be about that business, by what he says in
the other letter."

"He would not want help in that," said Eleanor, musing and flushing.
"Aunt Caxton--is it foolish in me to wish I could hear once more from
Mr. Rhys before I go?"

"Only a little foolish, my love; and very natural."

"Then why is it foolish?"

"Because reason would tell you that it is simply impossible your
letters could receive an answer by this time. They have perhaps but
barely got to Mr. Rhys this minute. And reason would tell you further
that there is no ground for supposing he is in any different mind from
that expressed when he wrote to you."

"But--you know--since then he does not say one word about it, nor about
me," said Eleanor flushing pretty deep.

"There is reason for that, too. He would not allow himself to indulge
hope; and therefore he would not act as if he had any. That sight of
you at Brighton threw him off a good deal, I judge."

"He told you he saw me?"

"He wrote to me about it."

"Did he tell you how he saw me?"

"Yes."

"What more?"

"He said he thought there was little chance I would have any use for
his letters; he saw the world was closing its nets around you fast; how
far they were already successful he could not know; but he was glad he
had seen what forbade him in time to indulge vain anticipations."

"Oh aunt Caxton!" said Eleanor--"Oh aunt Caxton! what a strange world
this is, for the way people's lives cross each other, and the work that
is done without people's knowing it! If you knew--what that meeting
cost me!--"

"My dear child! I can well believe it."

"And it aroused Mr. Carlisle's suspicions instantly, I knew. If I made
any mistake--if I erred at all, in my behaviour with regard to him, it
was then and in consequence of that. If I had faltered a bit
then--looked grave or hung back from what was going on, I should have
exposed myself to most cruel interpretation. I could not risk it. I
threw myself right into whatever presented itself--went into the
whirl--welcomed everybody and everything--only, I hoped, with so
general and impartial a welcome as should prove I preferred none
exclusively."

Eleanor stopped and the tears came into her eyes.

"My child! if I had known what danger you were in, I should have spent
even more time than I