England and go anywhere?"

The answer to this was first an innocent look, and then an extreme
scarlet flush. She could not hide it, with her hands prisoners; she sat
in a pretty state of abashment. A slight giving way of the mouth bore
witness that he read and understood it, though his immediate words were
reassuringly grave and unchanged in tone.

"I remember, you did not comprehend such a thing as possible, at one
time. When was that changed? You used to have a great fear."

"I lost part of that at Plassy."

"Where did you lose the rest of it, Eleanor?"

"It was in London."

He saw by the light in Eleanor's eyes, which looked at him now, that
there was something behind. Yet she hesitated.

"Sealed lips?" said he bending forward again to her face. "You must
unseal them, Eleanor."

"Do you want me to tell you all that?" she asked questioningly.

"I want you to tell me everything."

"It is only a long story."

"Do not make it short."

An easy matter! to go on and tell it with her two hands prisoners, and
those particularly clear eyes looking into her face. It served to shew
the grace that belonged to Eleanor, the way that in these circumstances
she began what she had to say. Where another woman would have been
awkward, she spoke with the simple sweet poise of manner that had been
the admiration of many a company, and that made Mr. Rhys now press the
little hands closer in his own. A little evident shy reluctance only
added to the grace.

"It is a good while ago--I felt, Mr. Rhys, that I wanted,--just that
which makes one willing to go anywhere and do anything; though not for
that reason. I expected to live in England always. I wanted to know
more of Christ. I wanted it, not for work's sake but for happiness'
sake. I was a Christian, I suppose; but I knew--I had seen and
felt--that there were things,--there was a height of Christian life and
attainment, that I had not reached; but where I had seen other people,
with a light upon their brows that I knew never shined upon mine. I
knew whence it came--I knew what I wanted--more knowledge of Christ,
more love of him."

"When was this?"

"It is a good while ago. It is--it was,--time seems so confused to
me!--I know it was the winter after you went away. I think it was near
the spring. We were in London."

"Yes."

"I was cold at the heart of religion. I was not happy. I knew what I
wanted--more love to Christ."

"You did love him."

"Yes; but you know