ty."

Eleanor thought of Paul's words--"Henceforth know I no man after the
flesh"--What was the use of talking? she and her mother must have the
same vision before they could see the same things. And she presently
forgot Mr. Amos and all about him; for in the distance she discerned
signs that the steamer was approaching Gravesend; and knew that the
time of parting drew near.

It came and was gone, and Eleanor was alone on the deck of the "Diana;"
and in that last moment of trial Mrs. Powle had been the most overcome
of the three. Eleanor's sweet face bore itself strongly as well; and
Mrs. Caxton was strong both by life-habit and nature; and the view of
each of them was far above that little ship-deck. Mrs. Powle saw
nothing else. Her distress was very deep.

"I wish I had taken Julia to her!" was the outburst of her penitent
relentings; and Mrs. Caxton was only thankful, since they had come too
late, that they were uttered too late for Eleanor to hear. _She_ went
home like a person whose earthly treasure is all lodged away from her;
not lost at all, indeed, but yet only to be enjoyed and watched over
from a distance. Even then she reckoned herself rich beyond what she
had been before Eleanor ever came to her.

For Eleanor, left on the ship's deck, at first it was hard to realize
that she had any earthly treasure at all. One part of it quitted,
perhaps for ever, with the home and the country of her childhood; the
other, so far, so vague, so uncertainly grasped in this moment of
distraction, that she felt utterly broken-hearted and alone. She had
not counted upon this; she had not expected her self-command would so
completely fail her; but it was so; and although without one shadow of
a wish to turn back or in any wise alter her course, the first
beginning of her journey was made amidst mental storms. Julia was the
particular bitter thought over which her tears poured; but they flooded
every image that rose of home things, and childish things and things at
Plassy. Mr. Amos came to her help.

"It is nothing," Eleanor said as well as she could speak,--"it is
nothing but the natural feeling which will have its way. Thank
you--don't be concerned. I don't want anything--if I only could have
seen my sister!"

"Mrs. Amos is about as bad," said her comforter with a sigh. "Ah well!
feeling must have its way, and better it should. You will both be
better by and by, I hope."

They were worse before they were better. For in