The gentleman presently made his appearance and gazed inquiringly at one and another, as if waiting for an explanation of the scene.
"Uncle," cried Ellen, "if I make a promise not to tell anything, wont it be a lie if I should tell?"
"Certainly; or, rather, it would be breaking your promise."
"I went to Josey Maxwell's once. I used to know her at school; and I felt very sorry for her disgrace, because I couldn't help thinking that I—you know."
"Yes, pet, I know."
"One day I was walking by, and she came out and urged me to go in. I thought at first I wouldn't, and then—" She leaned forward and whispered in her uncle's ear.
"Very right; very well, child."
"I stayed a good while, and when I come away, Josey promised to do what I had been asking her, if I would promise not to tell that I had called there, and what we had been talking about. I promised the first unless I was asked, and said certainly I wouldn't tell the last."
"Now," said Mrs. Collins, "there are sad reports concerning that visit, all of which Ellen indignantly denies."
"But not quite to my satisfaction, I must confess," added the teacher, with a forced smile.