"Ellen, Ellen, I have had such a happy day; I like Mr. Howard more than ever (he had only seen him twice before.) I am sure I shall get on with him, and he will teach me astronomy and navigation too, so I shall not be ashamed to go to sea next year; I shall learn so much first."
"Let me walk home with you, dear Edward, and do tell me every thing you have done and are going to do," asked Ellen, clinging to his arm, and looking in his face with such an expression that there was little trace of ill-temper. Emmeline meanwhile had made her brother a party in her indignation against Annie's pride, which he termed insolence, vowing he would make her feel it. And as they came in sight of her and Caroline, he called out to Ellen, who, all her timidity returning, tried to draw Edward into another walk.
"Not there, not there, Miss Nelly, you are not going to cut me in that fashion. You have talked quite enough to Edward and must now come to me. Edward, there's mamma; off with you to tell your tale of delight to her." And Edward did not wait a second bidding, leaving Ellen to Percy, who threw his arm affectionately round her, and began talking to her so amusingly that she could not help laughing, and so devoted did he appear to her, that he had only time to greet Miss Grahame, with a very marked and polite bow, and passed on. He wished to provoke, and he succeeded, for Annie was always particularly pleased when the handsome, spirited Percy Hamilton paid her any attention, and that he should be so devoted to his little pale, disagreeable-looking cousin, as not even to give her a word, annoyed her as much as he desired.
Edward's hasty progress to his aunt was slightly checked at seeing a stranger with her, but when he was introduced he made his bow with so much of his mother's grace, that, combined with the extraordinary likeness, and her feelings already interested in Mrs. Hamilton's account of her sister's sufferings and death, Lady Helen could not for the moment speak except to exclaim, "Oh, how that look recalls the past! I could almost fancy poor Eleanor herself stood before me."
"Did you—did you know my mother madam?" said Edward, with so much eagerness that his cheeks crimsoned and his voice trembled.—"Were you one of mamma's"—but he could not finish the sentence, and leaning his head against his aunt, he burst into tears.
"Poor child!" said Lady Helen pityingly, as Mrs. Hamilton pressed him closer to her, and stooped down to kiss his forehead without speaking; and that sudden and unexpected display of feeling contrasted with Ellen's painful shyness, stamped at once and indelibly Lady Helen's opinion of the two orphans.
CHAPTER IV.
VARIETIES.
A few days more brought Mrs. Greville and Mary to welcome their friends, and Ellen had again the pain of being introduced to strangers; but this time it was only the pain of her own shyness, for could she have overcome that feeling, she might have felt even pleasure. As it was, the gentle voice and manner with which Mrs. Greville addressed her, and the timid yet expressive glance of Mary, told of such sympathy and kindness, that she felt attracted toward both, and could quite enter into Emmeline's enthusiastic admiration of her friend; not, however, believing it possible that she herself could ever be worthy to win Mary's regard. Taught from such a very early age to believe herself so far inferior to Edward, such characters as Herbert and Mary appeared to her so exalted, that it was quite impossible they could ever think of her; the constant little acts of unobtrusive kindness that her cousin showed her, she attributed to his extreme goodness, not from the most trifling merit in herself. She did indeed love him very dearly, the best next to her aunt; but so much of reverence mingled with it, that she was almost more reserved with him than with the others. But Herbert was naturally reserved himself in words, and so he did not think any thing about it, except to wish and endeavor to make his little cousin happier than she seemed.