“Ellen, you know you would like to go with us.  In the name of all that is incomprehensible, why do you stay at home?”

“Because, much as I own I should like to go with you, I like better to stay at home.”

“You really are the spirit of contradiction, Ellen.  What did you sigh for?”

“Not for the Opera, Emmeline.”

“Then why?”

“Because I cannot bear to feel my aunt has lost all her confidence in me.”

“You are marvellously silly, Ellen; mamma is just the same to you as usual, I have observed no difference.”

“Dear Emmeline, coldness is not seen, it is felt, and as you have been so happy as never to have felt it, you cannot understand what I mean.”

“Nor do I ever wish to feel it.  But do not look so sorrowful, dear Ellen; mamma’s coldness is an awful thing to encounter, I own.”

“If you have never felt it, how can you judge?” said a playful voice beside them, for Emmeline had been too deeply engrossed in arranging and disarranging a wreath of roses in her hair, and Ellen too much engaged in her own thoughts, to notice the entrance of Mrs. Hamilton.

“Is it possible you are not yet ready, Emmeline? what have you been about?”

“Teasing Ellen, mamma; besides Fanny was engaged, and I could not please myself.”

“Or rather you were disinclined for exertion.  I have been watching you the last few moments, and you have played with that pretty wreath till it is nearly spoiled.”

“I plead guilty, dear mamma, but let Fanny come, and I will be ready in a second,” answered Emmeline, looking archly and caressingly in her mother’s face.  Mrs. Hamilton smiled, and turned as if to speak to her niece, but Ellen was gone.  She was sitting in her own room a few minutes afterwards, endeavouring to collect her thoughts sufficiently to understand the book of the new opera which her cousin had lent her, when she was interrupted by a hand gently placed upon the leaves.

“So coldness is felt, not seen, is it, my dear Ellen? well, then, let that kiss banish it for ever,” exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, encircling the delicate form of her niece with her arm.  “I have been more distant and unkind perhaps than was necessary, but your mysterious resolution irritated me beyond forbearance, and I have been very unjust and very cruel, have I not? will you forgive me?”

Ellen looked up in her face, and, unable to control her feelings, threw her arms around her and burst into tears.

“Nay, dearest, do not let me leave you in tears.  I am satisfied you have some good reason for your conduct, though my usual penetration is entirely at fault.  Will you quite content me by looking steadily in my face, and assuring me that your conscience never reproaches your conduct.  I shall not have one lingering doubt then.”