"Yes," said Julia looking up. "We pray for you every day. What's the matter, Eleanor?"
Her hand was laid sorrowfully and tenderly on the shoulder of the sister whose face was again hid from her. But at the touch Eleanor raised her head.
"You seem a different child, Julia, from what you used to be."
"What's the matter, Nellie?"—very tenderly.
"I wish I was different too," said Eleanor, springing out of bed; "and I want time to go away by myself and think it out and battle it out, until I know just what is right and am ready to do it; and instead of that, mamma and Mr. Carlisle have arranged—"
"Stop and sit down," said Julia taking hold of her; "you look white and black and all colours. Wait and rest, Eleanor."
But Eleanor would not till she had tried the refreshment of cold water, and had put her beautiful hair in order; then she sat down in her dressing-gown. Julia had watched and now stood anxiously beside her.
"Oh, what is the matter, Eleanor?"
"I don't know, Julia. I do not know what is right."
"Have you asked God to make you know?"