os.

"I am very much obliged to you for taking care of this cousin of mine,"
he said to them. "I am sure she is worth taking care of. And now I
should like to take care of you in turn. Will you go to my house, and
make us happy?"

They explained that they were going elsewhere.

"Well, come and see her then; for she will be wanting to see somebody.
We will do the best for her we can; but still--you know--absent friends
have the best claim. By the way! didn't I hear some sweet Methodist
singing as I came up? was it on this ship? You haven't got any
Methodists on board, captain; have you?"

"I've been one myself, this voyage!" said the captain.

"I wouldn't," said Mr. Esthwaite. "The Church service is the only one
to be used at sea. Every other sounds--I don't know how--incompatible.
There is something in the gentle swell of the rolling waves, and in the
grandeur of the horizon, that calls for the finest form of words
mortals could put together; and when you have got such a form, why not
use it?"

"You did not like the form of the singing then?" said Mr. Amos smiling.

"No," said Mr. Esthwaite drily,--"it struck me that if there had been a
cathedral roof over it, one of those voices would have lifted the
rafters and gone on; and that would not have been reverential, you
know. Now, my young cousin!--"

"Mr. Amos," said Eleanor aside to him and colouring deeply, "if there
are any letters for me at the house where you are going, or at the
post-office, will you send them to me?"

"I will certainly make it my care, and bring them to you myself."

"I'll send for anything you want," said Mr. Esthwaite. "What's that?
letters? We'll get all there is in Sydney, and there is a good deal,
waiting for this young lady. I've had one floor of my warehouse half
full for some months back already. No use of it for myself."

At last they got off; and it was not quickly, for Eleanor had to give a
good bye to everybody on board. Mr. Esthwaite looked on smiling, until
he was permitted to hand her down the vessel's side, and lodged her in
the wherry.

"Now you are out of the ship," said he looking keenly at her. "Aren't
you glad?"

"I have some good friends in her," said Eleanor.

"Friends! I should think so. Those were salt tears that were shed for
your coming away. Positively, I don't think a man of them could see
clear to take his last look at you."

Neither were Eleanor's feelings quite unmixed at this moment. She
expected