She it was, too, who in sickness and health had cared for her with all a mother’s love, and Mary would not leave her now.  So when Mrs. Campbell began to make plans for the future, each one of which had a direct reference to herself, she modestly said she should never desert Mrs. Mason, stating her reasons with so much delicacy, and yet so firmly, that Mrs. Campbell was compelled to acknowledge she was right, while at the same time she secretly wondered whether Ella for her sake would refuse a more elegant home were it offered her.

All that afternoon the contrast between the two girls grew upon her so painfully, that she would almost gladly have exchanged her selfish, spoilt Ella, for the once despised and neglected orphan; and when at evening Mary came to say “Good night,” she embraced her with a fervency which seemed to say she could not give her up.

Scarcely had the door closed upon Mary, ere there was a violent bell ring, and Henry Lincoln was ushered into the parlor, where Ella, radiant with smiles, sat awaiting him.  They were invited that evening to a little sociable, and Ella had bestowed more than usual time and attention upon her toilet, for Henry was very observant of ladies’ dresses, and now that “he had a right,” was constantly dictating, as to what she should wear, and what she should not.  On this evening every thing seemed fated to go wrong.  Ella had heard Henry say that he was partial to mazarine blue, and not suspecting that his preference arose from the fact of his having frequently seen her sister in a neatly fitting blue merino she determined to surprise him with his favorite color.  Accordingly, when Henry entered the parlor, he found her arrayed in a rich blue silk, made low in the neck with loose, full sleeves, and flounced to the waist.  The young man had just met Mary at the gate, and as usual after seeing her was in the worst of humors.

His first salutation to Ella was “Well, Mother Bunch, you look pretty, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.  Do I?” said Ella, taking him literally.

“Do you?” he repeated, with an impatient toss of his head.  “All but the pretty.  I advise you to take off that thing” (pointing to the dress), “I never saw you look worse.”

Since Ella’s engagement she had cried half the time, and now, as usual, the tears came to her eyes, provoking Henry still more.

“Now make your eyes red,” said he.  “I declare, I wonder if there’s any thing of you but tears.”

“Please don’t talk so,” said Ella, laying her hand on his arm.  “I had this dress made on purpose to please you, for you once said you liked dark blue.”

“And so I do on your sister, but your complexion is different from hers, and then those ruffles and bag sleeves make you look like a little barrel!”

“You told me you admired flounces, and these sleeves are all the fashion,” said Ella, the tears again flowing in spite of herself.