The bookcases are open — perhaps you can
find something there; or there are prints in those portfolios;
or you can go over to the house and make yourself acquainted
with your new home. If you want anything, ask Mrs. Allen. Does
it look pleasant to you?"
"Very," Ellen said.
"You are at home here, daughter; go where you will, and do
what you will. I shall not leave you long. But before I go,
Ellen, let me hear you call me father."
Ellen obeyed, trembling, for it seemed to her that it was to
set her hand and seal to the deed of gift her father and
mother had made. But there was no retreat — it was spoken —
and Mr. Lindsay, folding her close in his arms kissed her
again and again.
"Never let me hear you call me anything else, Ellen. You are
mine own now — my own child — my own little daughter. You
shall do just what pleases me in everything, and let by-gones
be by-gones. And now lie down there and rest daughter; you are
trembling from head to foot: rest and amuse yourself in any
way you like till I return."
He left the room.
"I have done it now!" thought Ellen, as she sat in the corner
of the sofa, where Mr. Lindsay had tenderly placed her; "I
have called him my father; I am bound to obey him after this.
I wonder what in the world they will make me do next. If he
chooses to make me drink wine every day, I must do it! — I
cannot help myself.
Pages:
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870