Many of Ida’s friends, hearing of the accident, flocked in to see her, and to inquire after the young lady who was injured.  Among the first who called was Lizzie Upton, whom the reader has once met in Chicopee.  On her way home she stopped at Mrs. Campbell’s, where she was immediately beset by Ella, to know “who the beautiful young lady was that Henry Lincoln had so heroically saved from a violent death,—­dragging her out from under the horses’ heels!”

Lizzie looked at her a moment in surprise, and then replied, “Why, Miss Campbell, is it possible you don’t know it was your own sister!”

It was Henry Lincoln himself who had given Ella her information, without, however, telling the lady’s name; and now, when she learned that ’twas Mary, she was too much surprised to answer, and Lizzie continued, “I think you are laboring under a mistake.  It was not Mr. Lincoln, who saved your sister’s life, but a young law student, whom you perhaps have seen walking with George Moreland.”

Ella replied that she never saw George Moreland, as he left Boston before she came; and then as she did not seem at all anxious to know whether Mary was much injured or not, Lizzie soon took her leave.  Long after she was gone, Ella sat alone in the parlor, wondering why Henry should tell her such a falsehood, and if he really thought Mary beautiful.  Poor simple Ella,—­she was fast learning to live on Henry Lincoln’s smile, to believe each word that he said, to watch nervously for his coming and to weep if he stayed away.  There were other young men in Boston, who, attracted by her pretty face, and the wealth of which she was reputed to be heiress, came fawningly around her, but with most strange infatuation, she turned from them all, caring only for Henry Lincoln.  He, on the contrary, merely sought her society for the sake of passing away an idle hour, boasting among his male acquaintances of the influence had acquired over her, by complimenting her curls and pretty face!  He knew that she was jealous of any praise or attention bestowed by him upon another, and had purposely told her what he did of Mary, exulting within himself as he saw the pain his words inflicted.

“I know he was only trying to tease me,” was the conclusion to which Ella finally came, and then there arose in her mind a debate as to whether, under the circumstances, it were not best to treat her sister with rather more respect than she was wont to do.  “The Seldens,” thought she, “are among the first.  If they notice her others will, and why should not I?”

This question was at last decided in the affirmative, and towards the close of the afternoon, she started for Mr. Selden’s, on her way meeting with Henry, who asked “where she was going?”

“To see that beautiful young lady,” returned Ella, rather pettishly; whereupon Henry laughed aloud, and asked “if it were not a little the richest joke he had ever put upon her.”