The morning meetings were kept up. Julia had always been very fond of her sister; now she almost worshipped her. She would get as close as possible, put her arm round Eleanor's waist, and sometimes lay her head on her shoulder; and so listen to the reading and join in the talking. The talks were always finished with prayer; and at first it not seldom happened that Eleanor's prayer became choked with tears. It happened so often that Julia remarked upon it; and after that it never happened again.
"Eleanor, can you see much use in my learning to dance?" was a question which Julia propounded one morning.
"Not much."
"Mamma says I shall go to dancing school next winter."
"Next winter! What, at Brompton?"
"O we are going to London after we go from here. So mamma says. Why didn't you know it?"
Eleanor remained silent.
"Now what good is that going to do?" Julia went on. "What work is that to fit me for, Eleanor?—dancing parties?"
"I hope it will not fit you for those," the elder sister replied gravely.
"Why not? don't you go to them?"