o help. Finally she
laid her hand on his shoulder and spoke a little apprehensively.

"Rowland--are you serious?"

"Perfectly." So he was, outwardly.

"Do you think it matters really whether I call her one thing or
another? If it were Mrs. Amos, I should not have the least difficulty.
I could call her sister Amos. What does it matter?"

"Why can't you use a Christian form of address with her as well as with
me?"

"Do you consider it a matter of _principle?_"

"Only as it regards the feelings of the individual, in either case."
Mr. Rhys's mouth was looking very comical.

"Would she care, Rowland?"

"I should like to have you try," he said, getting up and arranging his
papers to leave. And Eleanor saw he was not going to tell her any more.

"What is the opportunity you spoke of, Rowland?"

"This is our evening for being together--it has hardly been a Class
before this, we were so few; but we met to talk and think together, and
usually considered some given subject. To-night it is, the 'glory to be
revealed.'"

"That is what Mr. Amos and I used to do on board the schooner; and we
had that subject too, just after we left Tonga. So we shall be ready."

"We ought to go there to tea; but I have to go over first to Nawaile;
it will keep me till after tea-time. Do not wait for me, unless you
choose."

Eleanor chose, and told him so. While he was gone she sat at the door
of the house watching and thinking; thinking of him especially, and of
things that his talk that afternoon had brought up. It was a pleasant
hour or two. The sea-breeze fresh from the sea; the waving broad banana
leaves; the sweet perfume of flowers, which were rarely profuse and
beautiful in their garden; the beautiful southern sky of night, with
the stars which Eleanor had learned to know as strangers coming over in
the ship, and now loved as the companions of her new home. Stillness,
and flapping of leaves, and sweet thoughts; until it was time to be
expecting Mr. Rhys back again, and Eleanor made the tea, that he might
at least not miss so much refreshment. She knew his step rods off, and
long before she could see him; his cup was all ready for him when he
stepped in. He drank it, looking at Eleanor over it; would stop for
nothing else, and carried her off.

"I had a happy time," he said as they went through the plantations. "I
have been to see an old man who lies there dying, or very near it. He
has been a Christian two years. He is very gl