"
"Upon my word," said Mr. Lindsay, "you are a nice reasoner.
And are you always true upon this close scale?"
"I wish I was, Sir; but you see I am not. I am sure I hate
everything else!"
"Well, I will not quarrel with you for being true," said Mr.
Lindsay; "I wish there was a little more of it in the world.
Was this the cause of all those tears this afternoon?"
"No, Sir — not all."
"What beside, Ellen?"
Ellen looked down, and was silent.
"Come, I must know."
"Must I tell you all, Sir?"
"You must, indeed," said he, smiling; "I will have the whole,
daughter."
"I had been feeling very sorry all the week, because you, and
grandmother, and aunt Keith, were displeased with me."
Again Mr. Lindsay's silent caress, in its tenderness, seemed
to say she should never have the same complaint to make again.
"Was that all, Ellen?" as she hesitated.
"No, Sir."
"Well?"
"I wish you wouldn't ask me further; please do not. I shall
displease you again."
"I will not be displeased."
"I was thinking of Mr. Humphreys," said Ellen, in a low tone.
"Who is that?"
"You know, Sir; you say I must not call him —"
"What were you thinking of him?"
"I was wishing very much I could see him again."
"Well, you _are_ a truth-teller," said Mr. Lindsay, "or bolder
than I think you."
"You said you would not be displeased, Sir."
"Neither will I, daughter; but what shall I do to make you
forget these people?"
"Nothing, Sir; I cannot forget them; I shouldn't deserve to
have you love me a bit if I could.
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