Ellen burst into tears.
Mrs. Collins looked astonished; Miss Granby, confirmed in her worst opinion.
"Try to control yourself, my poor child," said the former, leading Ellen to a chair, and laying her hand on the hot temples. "I feel quite confident that you meant to do right. Take time, and tell us what was said during your visit."
"I can't! I can't! I mustn't tell; it would be a lie!"
"You see, now, that I was right," urged the teacher, sitting very erect, and smiling unpleasantly. "If there were no wrong, there would be no concealment."
Ellen, uncovering her face, saw that her aunt was very pale; and, with a cry of anguish, screamed out,—
"She is making you hate me! You are beginning to believe her! Oh, dear! But I'll go to Uncle Collins. He will be my friend, and Frank will know I'm not guilty!" And, with a fresh burst of grief, she rushed from the room.
Her aunt immediately followed her and, by caresses, sought to convince the poor child that her confidence was unimpaired. When she had somewhat soothed her, they went back to the parlor where Miss Granby sat firm and unbending. She was a good woman; but her dignity had been deeply wounded by the liberties taken with her name; and fully believing in her pupil's guilt, she took no pains to conceal her feelings.
The doctor's gig at this moment drove into the yard; and Ellen, who heard his voice, said, eagerly,—
"There's uncle! Mayn't I ask him to come in?"