"
Ellen's face, however, looked so little inclined to be merry,
that she took up the subject in another tone.
"Seriously, do you know," said she, "I have been thinking it
is a very happy thing for you. I don't know what would become
of you alone in that great parsonage-house. You would mope
yourself to death in a little while, especially now that Mr.
John is gone."
"He will be back," said Ellen.
"Yes; but what if he is? he can't stay at Thirlwall, child —
he can't live thirty miles from his church, you know — did you
think he would? They think all the world of him already. I
expect they'll barely put up with Mr. George while he is gone;
they will want Mr. John all to themselves when he comes back,
you may rely on that. What _are_ you thinking of, child?"
For Ellen's eyes were sparkling with two or three thoughts,
which Miss Sophia could not read.
"I should like to know what you are smiling at," she said,
with some curiosity; but the smile was almost immediately
quenched in tears.
Notwithstanding Miss Sophia's discouraging talk, Ellen
privately agreed with Ellen Chauncey that the Brownie should
be sent to her to keep and use as her own, _till his mistress
should come back_ — both children being entirely of opinion
that the arrangement was a most unexceptionable one.
It was not forgotten that the lapse of three years since the
date of the letters, left some uncertainty as to the present
state of affairs among Ellen's friends in Scotland; but this
doubt was not thought sufficient to justify her letting pass
so excellent an opportunity of making the journey; especially
as Captain Montgomery's letter spoke of an _uncle_, to whom,
equally with her grandmother, Ellen was to be consigned.
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