think you will find it so."

Eleanor stopped short, near the other end of the great apartment. "I
cannot do it!" she exclaimed with tears in her eyes, but spoke gravely.

"One can always do what is right."

"Not to-day--" whispered Eleanor.

"One can always do right to-day," he answered smiling. "And it is best
to begin as we are going on. Come!"

He took her hand and led her forward into the room at the other end of
the house; his study, Eleanor saw with half a glance by the books and
papers and tables that were there. Still keeping her hand fast in his,
they knelt together; and certainly the prayer that followed was good
for nervousness, and like the sunshine to dispel all manner of clouds.
Eleanor was quieted and subdued; she could not help it; all sorts of
memories and associations of Plassy and Wiglands gathered in her mind,
back of the thoughts that immediately filled it. Hallowed, precious,
soothing and joyful, those minutes of prayer were while Mr. Rhys spoke;
in spite of the minutes to follow that Eleanor dreaded. And though her
own words were few, and stammering, they were different from what she
would have thought possible a quarter of an hour before; and not
unhappy to look back upon.

Detaining her when they arose, Mr. Rhys asked with something of his old
comical look, whether she thought she could eat a dinner of his
ordering? Eleanor had no doubt of it.

"You think you could eat anything by this time!" said he. "Poor child!
But my credit is at stake--suppose you wait here a few minutes, until I
see whether all is right."

He went off, and Eleanor sat still, feeling too happy to want to look
about her. He came again presently, to lead Eleanor to the dining-room.

In the lofty, spacious, and by no means inelegant middle apartment of
the house, a little table stood spread, looking exceeding diminutive in
contrast with the wide area and high ceiling of the room. Here Mr. Rhys
with a very bright look established Eleanor, and proceeded to make
amends for keeping her so long from Mrs. Balliol's table. Much to her
astonishment there was a piece of broiled chicken and a dish of eggs
nicely cooked, and Mr. Rhys was pouring out for her some tea in
delicate little cups of china.

"You see aunt Caxton, do you not?" he said.

"O aunt Caxton! in these cups. I thought so. But I had no idea you had
such cooks in Fiji?"

"They will learn--in time," said he shortly. "You perceive this is an
unorganized estab