"I am afraid you won't like it, Aunt Sally; but mother said we children ought to take pains to come and see you, and to please you when we could, because you are an old lady, and not very strong, and have no children of your own to wait on you and be company for you."
"Umph!" said Mrs. Sally again. "And so you come here out of pity, I suppose, and not because you find it pleasant?"
"No, aunt, I like to come, only—"
"Only when I am cross, I suppose."
"I don't mind any thing you say to me, aunt, but I don't like it when you talk about my father and mother as you do sometimes, and I do not think it is right. If it were not for that, I should always like to come here, for you have been very kind to me ever since I can remember."
Mrs. Bertie was silent for a few moments, and Ethel could not tell whether she was angry or not.
Presently she said: "Suppose I should give you the money to buy your presents with,—would not that do as well?"
"No, aunt, because they would be your presents and not mine."
"Well, then, I will make a bargain with you. You shall come and read to me two hours a day, and I will pay you as much for that as you can earn by painting. We will read something you like—say Miss Yonge's stories—and when they are finished you shall have them for your own."
Ethel hesitated. The offer was certainly a tempting one, for she was fond of reading aloud, and she had been very anxious to read the books in question.