"What do you give him thoughts about?"
"My poor boys would say, 'lots of things.' I have to convince Mr. Carlisle that it would cost the country less to reform than to punish these poor children, and that reforming them is impossible unless we can give them enough to keep them from starvation; and that the common prison is no place for them; and then a great many questions besides these and that spring out of these have to be considered and talked over. And it is important beyond measure; and if I should let it alone,—the whole might fall to the ground. There are two objections now in Mr. Carlisle's mind—or in other people's minds—to one thing that ought to be done, and must be done; and I must shew Mr. Carlisle how false the objections are. I have begun; I must go through with it. The whole might fall to the ground if I took away my hand; and it would be such an incalculable blessing to thousands and thousands in this dreadful place—"
"Do you think London is a dreadful place?" said Julia doubtfully.
"There are very few here who stand 'like them that wait for their Lord,'"—said Eleanor, her face taking a yearning look of thoughtfulness.
"There aren't anywhere, I don't believe. Eleanor—aren't you happy?"
"Yes!"
"You don't always look—just—so."
"Perhaps not. But to live for Jesus makes happy days—be sure of that,
Julia; however the face looks."
"Are you bothered about Mr. Carlisle?"
"What words you use!" said Eleanor smiling. "'Bother,' and 'scratchy.'
No, I am not bothered about him—I am a little troubled sometimes."