a sin-sick soul.'"

"I never heard anything so sweet in all my life!" said Mrs. Esthwaite
as she got up and wiped her eyes. "I've been keeping you up. But do
tell me," said she looking at her innocently,--"are all Methodists like
you?"

"No," said Eleanor laughing; and then she was vexed at herself that the
laugh changed to a sob and the tears came. Was _she_ hysterical? It was
very unlike her, but this seemed something like it. Neither could she
immediately conquer the strangling sensation, between laughter and
crying, which threatened her.

"My dear! I'm very sorry," said Mrs. Esthwaite. "You are too
tired!--and it is my fault. Egbert will be properly angry with me."

But Eleanor conquered the momentary oppression, threw off her tears,
and gave her hostess a peaceful kiss for good night; with which the
little lady went off comforted. Then Eleanor sat down by her window,
and with tears wet on her eyelashes yet, looked off to the beautiful
moonlit harbour in the distance--and thought. Her thoughts were her
own. Only some of them had a reference to certain words that speak of
"sowing beside all waters," and a tender earnest remembrance of the
seed she had just been scattering. "Beside all waters"--yes; and as
Eleanor looked over towards the fair, peace-speaking view of Port
Jackson, in New South Wales, she recollected the prayer that labourers
might be sent forth into the vineyard.

CHAPTER XVI.

IN VIEWS.

"Know well, my soul, God's hand controls
Whate'er thou fearest;
Round Him in calmest music rolls
Whate'er thou hearest."

"That girl is the most lovely creature!" said Mrs. Esthwaite when she
rejoined her husband.

"What have you been talking to her about? Now she will not be up in
time to take a drive in the Domain."

"Yes, she will. She has got plenty of spirit. But oh, Egbert! to think
of that girl going to put herself in those savage islands, where she
won't see anybody!"

"It is absurd?" said her husband, but somewhat faintly.

"I couldn't but think to-night as I looked at her--you should have seen
her.--Something upset her and set her to crying; then she wouldn't cry;
and the little white hand she brushed across her eyes and then rested
on the chair-back to keep herself steady--I looked at it, and I
couldn't bear to think of her going to teach those barbarians. And her
eyes were all such a glitter with tears and her feelings--I've fallen
in love with her, Egbert."

"She's