Eleanor worked away very diligently and made no answer. Mrs. Caxton furtively watched her; Eleanor's head was bent down over her sewing; but when she raised it to change the position of her work, Mrs. Caxton saw a set of her lips that was not natural.
"You never suspected anything of the kind?" she repeated.
"No, ma'am—and it would take strong testimony to make me believe it."
"Why so, pray?"
"I should have thought—but it is no matter what I thought about it!"
"Nay, if I ask you, it is matter. Why should it be hard to believe, of
Mr. Rhys especially?"
"Nothing; only—I should have thought, if he liked any one, a woman,—that she would have gone with him."
"You forget where he was bound to go. Do you think many women would have chosen to go with him to such a home—perhaps for the remainder of their lives? I think many would have hesitated."
"But you forget for what he was going; and any woman whom he would have liked, would have liked his object too."
"You think so," said Mrs. Caxton; "but I cannot wonder at his having doubted. There are a great many questions about going such a journey, my dear."