"She is not in it now," Mr. Rhys observed quietly.
"No;—she is in good hands. But, brother Rhys, do you think our sister understands exactly what sort of work she has come to do here?"
"She is teachable," he answered with great imperturbability.
"Well, you will be able to train her, if she wants it. I am glad to know she is in such good hands. I think she has hardly yet a just notion of what lies before her, brother Rhys."
"When did you make your observations?"
"She was with me, you know—you left her with me this morning. We were alone, and we had a little conversation."
"Mrs. Balliol, do you think a just notion of anything call be formed in half an hour?"
His question was rather grave, and the lady's eyes wavered from meeting his. She fidgeted a little.
"O you know best, of course," she said; "I have had very little opportunity—I only judged from the want of seriousness; but that might have been from some other cause. You must excuse me, if I spoke too frankly."
"You can never do that to me," he said. "Thank you, sister Balliol. I will take care of her."