ce
she had been a child, could not keep away from her and could not be
denied when they came; though they took precious time, and though they
tried Eleanor sorely. They wanted to know everything; if their wishes
had sufficed, they would have learned the whole history of Mr. Rhys's
courtship. Failing that, their inquiries went to everything else, past
and future, to which Eleanor's own knowledge could be supposed to
extend. What she had been doing through the year which was gone, and
what she expected the coming year would find her to do; when she would
get to her place of destination, and what sort of a life she would have
of it when once there. Houses, and horses, and cows and sheep, were as
interesting to these good ladies as they were to Mrs. Powle; and
feeling less concern in the matter they were free to take more
amusement, and so no side feeling or hidden feeling disturbed their
satisfaction in the flow of information they were receiving. For
Eleanor gratified them patiently, in all which did not touch
immediately herself; but when they were gone she sighed. Even Mrs.
Powle was less trying; for her annoyances were at least of a more
dignified kind. Eleanor could meet them better.
"And this is the end of you!" she exclaimed the evening before Eleanor
was to sail. "This is the end of your life and expectations! To look at
you and think of it!" Despondency could no further go.
"Not the end of either, mamma, I hope," Eleanor responded cheerfully.
"The expectation of the righteous shall be for ever, you forget," said
Mrs. Caxton smiling. "There is no fall nor failure to that."
"O yes, I know!" said Mrs. Powle impatiently; "but just look at that
girl and see what she is. She might be presented at Court now, and
reigning like a princess in her own house; yes, she might; and
to-morrow she is going off as if she were a convict, to Botany Bay!"
"No, mamma," said Eleanor smiling. "I never can persuade you of
Australian geography."
"Well it's New South Wales, isn't it?" said Mrs. Powle.
Eleanor assented.
"Very well. The girl that brings you your luncheon when you get there,
may be the very one that stole my spoons three years ago. It's all the
same thing. And you, Eleanor, you are so handsome, and you have the
manners of a queen--Sister Caxton, you have no notion what admiration
this girl excited, and what admiration she could command!"
Mrs. Caxton looked from the calm face of the girl, certainly handsome
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