"I fancy not, mamma. You will have to think of me as drinking my tea without cream."
"So you will take tea there with you?"
"Why not?"
"I have got the impression," said Mrs. Powle, "somehow, that you would do nothing as other people do. You will drink tea, will you? I'll give you a box."
"Thank you, mamma," said Eleanor, but the colour flushed now to the roots of her hair,—"aunt Caxton has given me a great stock already."
"And coffee?"
"Yes, mamma—for great occasions—and concentrated milk for that."
"Do tell me what sort of a place it is, Eleanor."
"It is a great many places, mamma. It is a great many islands, large and small, scattered over some hundreds of miles of ocean; but they are so many and near each other often, and so surrounded with interlacing coral reefs, that navigation there is in a kind of network of channels. The islands are of many varieties, and of fairy-land beauty; rich in vegetation and in all sorts of natural stores."
"Not cows."